Finding Forgiveness
by TwistedforTwilight
Summary: This is JPOV of "Finding Relief" and beyond, so you should read that first. Bella meets Jazz under peculiar circumstances and they form a strange relationship. All human. CAUTION: Lemon and mature themes. Rated M for sexy times
1. Finding A Girl

**This story is Jaspers POV of "Finding Relief" and beyond.**

**If you haven't read that story, you should probably read it before you read this.**

**5/9/10 UPDATE!! Apparently, Ffn decided to delete some of the punctuation. The series of punctuation that I used to separate scenes was deleted due to this update, which seems to be the only change that needs to be made, so I just wanted to let everyone know to bear with me while I correct this story. It will take some time. **

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"_**We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." – Sam Keen**_

**Chapter 1**

The streets were crowded. I knew the band personally, I played with them once, and they were good. This mob would get their money's worth. Judging by the people surrounding the The Machine Shop tavern, it would be a packed house tonight.

It was also a good night to work. The night air was cool and not hot as fuck, like it had been all week. It had been in the low nineties and the humidity in the eighty percent range. Breathing normally was near impossible, even for a fit, young guy like me. Gasping and panting was the common method for taking in breath under these circumstances.

But not tonight, it was a cool seventy-five degrees, it was almost worth celebrating, everyone appeared to agree with me, because people were hanging out in the street before the show starts, instead of running for the nearest building equipped with central air.

I took a look around the crowd, searching for potential customers. There were a lot of women in the masses tonight. With a few drinks in them, their inhibition disappears. I chuckle humorlessly. _How well I knew that_.

I still loved women. I still hoped to find a girl for myself one day. One that would forgive me for all of this; forgive me for my past and present. That was a tall order and it would take a strong woman to accomplish it, but I wouldn't give up on faith. She was out there, somewhere.

I stood here with James and Jessica. They were my partners in crime.

James is a prick. We have been acquainted for most of our lives but once "the incident" occurred, he could see the vulnerability in me, and pounced like a cat on an unsuspecting mouse. I never stood a chance as he easily roped me in to his way of life, without hesitation or remorse. I don't blame him; I was old enough to know better. I could have tried to withstand the peer pressure he was hoisting on me in truckloads. Involving me in all of his senseless shenanigans.

James didn't have an ounce of self-reproach. If you asked him, he was all that and more. He already had a full-time job at a prestigious law firm, as an intern. He got in there using his daddy's name and money. Little did his employment or his daddy know what he did after hours. I am sure they would more than scoff at his apparent enjoyment in all things naughty. He did this for nothing but the pleasure of the forbidden sex.

James didn't have a problem doing guys, as well, which tripled his business. He actually had a girlfriend that put up with his shit, but she was too drugged up most of the time to fucking care.

Jessica was a slut in every meaning of the word. She worked out here more than James and I, put together. Jessica wasn't happy unless she was riding a cock. She had hooked up with James one night and that is how James and I came to be here. She has a thing for James but she is smart enough to realize that she would never have him in the way she wanted to, so she infiltrated him into her life in the only way she knew how. Turning us into prostitutes along side her.

Money. None of us did it for money. James had a great job, Jessica's family came from old money and she was the princess. And well, I had my inheritance. The inheritance I wouldn't touch it if my fucking life depended on it.

James is talking about himself, as usual, and Jessica is still soaking up everything the cocky son of a bitch says; hanging on every last word like it was her lifeline. I shook my head internally and sighed.

They both have their faults but we cared about each other, as much as we could, in our fucked up little world.

"I bet I can get two girls and one guy tonight." James says confidently, showing his perfect white teeth. He was a decent looking guy, but I didn't go that way and James knew it. That was one thing he didn't succeed in tempting me to do.

"All at once?" Jessica questions, seriously. I laughed out loud at that. Jessica wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. James and I often found humor at her expense.

"STOP!"

As a natural reaction, I turn my head toward the sound of the voice saying that single word on a gasp.

My breath halted and then hitched when I looked at the sight before me.

She is fucking amazing, and she is staring at _me_. _Fuck me backwards, sideways and upside down_. She had the deepest chocolate eyes that I have ever seen. Her lips were plump and a pretty shade of pink. Her pale skin looked soft and clean. _That fucking hair_. Her hair looked like strands of pure chocolate silk, that was pulled back into a sexy as hell pony tail. She has a gorgeous body. The black top she was wearing showed an adequate amount of cleavage. Based on that, I could tell she has a nice sized pair of tits. Her legs were encased in some form fitting jeans and knee-high boots.

Shit, I was rock hard. When I looked from those boots up to her face I noticed that she is blushing profusely and her breathing is shallow. I smirked.

Apparently, I am not the only one turned on by our mutual eye-fucking. As she walks past me I catch a glimpse of a sweet little ass. My hands itched to follow her, carry over my shoulder into one of these dark alleys, and show her exactly how aroused I am.

I watched her as she disappeared behind a group of people. Damn, now I have a painful erection that won't be satiated until it is encased in a hot, wet pussy. I redouble my efforts in looking for a client for the evening. I rarely get horny anymore. I had pills that make my dick jump to attention within a matter of minutes, if needed. Tonight, I wouldn't be swallowing anything.

I was contemplating traversing down one of these dark alleys all by my lonesome to take care of my sudden need, like a demented pervert, when a car pulled up directly in front of us. I didn't recognize the car and when I look at Jess and James I didn't see any recognition in their eyes either.

We all bent our heads a bit to see who it was. It was Leah. She was a regular of mine. _Where in the hell did she find this piece of shit? _She is driving an older model Grand Prix that has a headlight and taillight out; the bottom of each door has several layers of rust.

Leah was one rich bitch. Well, her husband is anyway. He does some type of classified government work. Leah didn't tell me this. Jessica did. Yeah, Embry has a thing for paid company, too.

Leah didn't need to know this and either did her husband. That would cause them to talk about it; inevitably ending in promising to never see Jessica or I again and that shit just ain't good for business.

I gave her a fake smile. It's not like I wasn't looking forward to getting rid of this throbbing hard-on or that Leah wasn't a good fuck. She is hot in her own way. She has a decent face and body. She has some flaws in the bedroom but it wasn't anything that I couldn't work with. I just have a pair of chocolate eyes with matching hair on my mind. I move to the passenger door and bend down to the window. James had followed me and bent down as well.

"Aren't you getting tired of looking at this guy's ugly dick? I can show you a better time, I promise." I knew James was teasing and so did Leah. She has been around enough times to know James' sick sense of humor. Leah shot back, "I'm not in the mood to explain any fucking diseases to my husband this week. Maybe next week, hmm?" She gave him her most sultry smile.

I gave up listening to their banter and stood up to look into the crowd one more time…searching for the girl. I look at the ground, quickly calculating the odds of a girl like that taking advantage of the services provided by a lowly whore. Would she sleep with a fucked up mess like me, a prostitute…a killer? Odds were slim to none. _Fuckin' A_.

Disgusted, I open the passenger door and climb in. Leah has a huge grin on her face. Her hand lands on my knee and she starts to pull out into the street. "Leah…money first." I say agitated. She knew the rules but she was always trying to test the waters…test me. She wasn't the first woman to think she could get me to break the rules for her or to stop doing this altogether.

They didn't have a goddamn clue. I was a master at making them feel like they were the only one for me…making them feel special. That is why I had regulars. I gave them exactly what they thought they wanted and they always came back for more.

"Geez, you knew I would get around to it, sugar lips." She throws the money in my lap, slightly perturbed. I count the money…a cool grand. She wants the usual treatment tonight. A thousand bucks gave her some oral and a fuck. I didn't need her in a bad mood so I grab her hand and put it back on my thigh…pretending like I want it to be there. That seemed to appease her because she gave me a shy smile. _That was way too easy._

"You do know that I hate it when you call me that, don't you?" I say. I hated any term of endearment. You should save those words for loved ones and not people you pay to fuck you.

"Well, if you told me your name, I would call you that instead." She says slyly. _Yeah, right_. There are a few things I keep to myself, hearing one of these horny women scream "Jasper" or worse yet, my family nickname, "Jazz" in the throes of their orgasm make me cringe with distaste.

I went back to my earlier thought. "Where did you find this piece of junk?" She huffed, "It's my maid's." I let out a snort and retorted. "I think you need to pay her more."

She pulled up to the apartment that I shared with my cohorts and we proceeded to my room.

My erection had not receded since I'd seen the brunette and I was looking for some action…quickly. Once we got in and shut the door I pull Leah to me. I stroke her back while my tongue and lips connect with the pulse point on her neck. I imagine doing it to _the girl_, her heartbeat would be unpredictable, stuttering and throbbing erratically as I caressed her back and dragged my tongue up her neck to her ear. She shivers when I nip at her lobe. My hands come up to her hair but it wasn't the short bob that Leah sported that I was picturing, it was long, flowing, fuck-me-now chocolate hair. I knew it would smell so damn good. I grasp it tightly, pulling her head back so I could graze my teeth from one ear to the other, across her neck.

She moans softly, but it wasn't Leah's annoying moan, it was _the girl_, a thick, throaty moan that I hear. My throbbing cock bouncing up and down, sensing the certainty of the pleasure it was about to receive. I move away to pull her shirt over her head and likewise, she grabs my hem of my shirt and removes it. She immediately goes for the fly of my jeans. I glance down to watch her hands, but it wasn't Leah's dark skin that I see, I visualize the girl standing before me, her pale small fingers working the button from it's hole, slowly lowering the zipper. I look up unfocused, again, it wasn't Leah that I see, it was _her_. Her hair was down, cascading over her shoulders, her lips were slightly parted and she was breathing heavy. Her brown orbs were boring into mine, transmitting an intense desire. My body was on fire, I knew I was starting to perspire and we hadn't even exerted any energy yet.

She bends down in front of me and lowers my pants. She stays on one knee to remove my boxers as I gaze down at her. Her mouth inches from my cock, but it wasn't the ruby red lips of Leah that I saw, it was those lush pale pink lips. She looked up at me and I seen those chocolate eyes, full of promise. My eyes shut and I bent my head back on my shoulders as I envisioned her crouching down with my cock in her hand.

She isn't grasping it roughly and awkwardly like Leah is, she was palming my nuts, while her other hand gently stroked it from base to tip before wrapping her little hand around it's length and in slow, long strokes pumped me. Every other stroke, glancing her thumb over the tip. _Fuck! I was going to come_.

I pull away quickly and bring Leah to her feet. I pull her to me again so I could grasp the clasp at her back to remove her bra. I remove it expertly and then back her onto the bed. She lay back and positions herself so that her legs dangle off the side of the bed at her knees. I bend over her, with one knee on the bed and bring my hands up to the snap of her khaki pants, but it isn't khakis but jeans that I fantasized…nice form fitting jeans. I unbutton and lower the zipper. I slowly pull the jeans off, taking in every detail of her pale slim thighs and calves.

I take her dainty foot in my hand and kiss my way up her calf, the inside of her knee and thigh. I kiss the top of her panties and then lower to her weak spot. Leah moans, but all I could hear was the girl, saying the forbidden, on another of her low throaty moans. "Ahh, Jazz."

Hearing my name come out of those plush lips make my stomach clench.

_Motherfucker! My dick was ready to explode._

I get down on my knees, next to the bed, like a small boy about to pray, but that wasn't on the agenda, because at the moment I was in between a woman's legs, spread eagle and salivating. I pull her closer to the edge and hear a gasp as I start pressing butterfly kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Leah was gone again and _the girl_ was back. I place my hands on that sweet little ass, lifting her to my mouth until it was just above her core. I exhale hot breaths over her wet folds. Envisioning that she likes it, because it is _her_ that was writhing with her back arching off the bed. It has to be _her_ groaning loudly...for me and because of me.

I press my dick up against the side of the bed, rubbing it along the smooth surface of the bedspread, trying to create some kind of goddamn friction. In mere seconds of seeing this girl she has me reduced to a prepubescent boy… fucking a bedspread for fucksakes.

I had to speed this along, tonight _I_ had fucking urges. Besides, maybe if I got out of here before the show ended I could catch another glimpse of her. With that thought I press my tongue inside of Leah in quick little thrusts. I brought my hand up from her ass and pinch her clit, which I knew she loves. She doesn't disappoint. As expected, she comes instantly.

I get up immediately and retrieved a condom out of a drawer from the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the king sized bed, a small dresser that I found in the house that I had bought a couple of months ago. As I slipped the condom on, Leah makes her way to the middle of the bed. Some of her juices were sliding down her leg but she doesn't notice. She was staring at me, with a strange expression on her face.

I continue my dream about _the girl_ as I crawl onto the bed. It isn't Leah's oversized implants that I was picturing creeping up to. My destination was moving over a fuckhot body to two perky little tits. When I am on my knees, between her legs I put both my hands on the small mounds. Caressing them in a way I know she would like. Softly cupping them while gently pinching the centers between my thumb and finger. Effectively making the nipples turn to little hardened nubs.

_Her_ back was arching over the bed again, _her_ hair spread over the pillows and blanket. _Her_ soft plush lips open in the form of an "O". _She looked exquisite._

"Open your eyes." Leah whispers.

_Fuck no…and ruin this amazing fantasy._

I don't want to see the girl that I was situated above, but reality visits and I realize she was the client, and since customer service was always my priority I open my eyes, but instead of looking at her face, I look at the task at hand. As I prop myself on one arm I stare down at her pussy while I plunge two fingers inside of her, pumping agonizingly slow. _Damn she was hot and wet_.

My shaft notices too because it decides that it was not going to wait any longer. I'd be done before I get inside her. So to prolong my release I look back up at Leah's face. _Mission accomplished._ I wouldn't think about the girl again until this was over.

I moved over her and position my length into her folds and glide in. I lay down on top of her, thrusting gently while I simultaneously rotate my hips, making sure I slide up and down her clit in the process. I stare into Leah's face trying to make sure this lasts as long as possible.

Focusing on Leah works like a fucking charm. I was not only going to last as long as she needs me to, but I was afraid my erection is going semi-soft.

"Harder." Leah demands in quick pants. I oblige gladly. I was ready to get this over with. I bury my head in her neck and breathe in her ear, which I knew she happened to love. My climax was approaching and I knew I was ready to go at any second. As soon as I hear Leah start her's I allow myself to shut my eyes and visualize what _the girl's_ face would look like in the middle of a release. That is all it took, I groan in Leah's ear as I ride out my orgasm.

I never lingered. We get up instantly and start to dress. She asks if I need a ride back and I tell her that I was fine and that my partner would come pick me up.

Before walking out the door Leah turns to me, her arms wrapping around my torso. "Thank you. I...I felt something different tonight. Like you were more into it…or something." She let go and shrugs. "It was nice." She left me staring at the closed door in shock.

_Why was this girl consuming me? One way to find out…_

I quickly got out my cell phone. "James, come pick me up." I threw down the phone and tore the sheets off of the bed swiftly and applied fresh ones. I took a fast shower and did the best I could with my unruly hair. By the time I arrived back over to the bar I'd estimate that the show would be over in about twenty minutes.

XXXXX

I'm sitting by the entrance of the bar when people start filing out. As I predicted earlier, the band must have gave a stellar performance. Everyone was in good spirits, talking with smiles on their faces. My eyes were darting around the crowd, searching for the girl that had starred in my most vivid fantasy to date. When I had pictured her, I had felt as if I was really seeing her and when I touched her hair and her body, it was like I could really feel _her,_ and not Leah. Thinking about it was making me a hard again. I squelched the thought instantly. I wasn't planning on sitting with another aching crotch until the next client decided to come and relieve me.

_What is it about…_

That thought disappears…all thoughts disappears, because there she is. Wow. I decided that my imagination wasn't as vivid as I thought. It sucked actually, when it came to the reality. She is, at least, ten times hotter than anything I pictured tonight. She was walking with someone now, another girl.

Thank God. _Why? As if I had a chance_.

I knew I couldn't leave here without approaching her, without hearing what her voice really sounded like. Not that I could illicit the moan out of her that I craved to hear. But she would be center stage in my dreams for a long while and I wanted to make sure I had an accurate account of all that makes up this girl.

She walks her friend to her car, speaks for a moment, gives her a hug and then walks off. She had pulled the pony-tail holder out of her hair. It came down to her waist line and was blowing behind her in the soft breeze. _She was a fucking wet dream_. I started to follow her quickly. I don't know which car she drives and I don't want her making an unexpected get-a-way.

She hesitates as she searches for her keys.

It was now or never.

"Hey, darlin' it's nice to see you again. Did you enjoy the show?" I say from behind her. It looks like she hesitated slightly and then she turns around and face me. Those chocolate orbs are wide as saucers, pink slowly filling her cheeks.

She looks perplexed before she says, "I thought you left." Then she winced, apparently not wanting to divulge that piece of information.

_She noticed when I took off with Leah?…She was watching me?_ I start to fill with hope, maybe this wasn't as impossible as I had originally thought. I smile at that.

"Well, I came back for you darlin'. Is there anything I can help you with tonight?" I ask.

My optimism slowly fades when I saw, one, the confusion, and then, two, the comprehension.

Are...you...a..." She stammers and then stops.

She couldn't even say the fucking word. What a joke. Well, I am not going to make this any easier for her, I cross my arms over my chest and wait. Smiling like this wasn't fucking hurting. Maybe I could walk away with some pride.

"Are you a prostitute?" She blurts out. _Ouch_.

I wasn't going to let her know that she had got to me. I stated matter of factly, and with as much confidence in my voice that I could muster, "Yes ma'am, at your service."

She steps back. _She actually took a step back away from me_. Like my hooker germs were going to jump from me to her in the space that she had previously allowed between us.

_Well fuck this_. One person can only stand so much humiliation. The revulsion was on her face. I can't believe I actually thought I would have a chance with someone like her.

I chuckle bitterly and turn to walk away without another word.

"Wait." I hear her say apologetically.

_Oh, hell yeah_. Hope revisited.

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**AN: I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Pay to Play

**AN: This story will be in JPOV. It goes through Finding Relief and beyond. Beware – Jasper's story will be a little darker than Bella's. **

**Thanks to everyone that have put this story on alert or in your favs and thanks to everyone for reviewing. **

**I don't own twilight or any of the characters.**

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_"**Love is not to be purchased, and affection has no price." – St. Jerome**_

**Chapter 2 – Pay to Play**

"I apologize," her voice is thick and then turns light when she adds, "I don't get out of the house much."

I twist back around then. _She doesn't want me to leave?_ Do I stand a chance here? I stare into the chocolate depths of her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction to see if she is messing with me. She smiles at me and it goes right to my dick. _Fuck!_ Am I really going to maintain a boner the whole time I am talking to her? I can't even remember the last time I had a reaction to a girl like this. It must've been when I was about fifteen. No scratch that, it must have been fourteen. By fifteen my life had been too fucked up to show any emotional or physical reaction to anyone.

Why did I have to meet her here, now? Why did I have to approach her like I did? I could have acted like I was a regular guy. A normal guy.

How fair would that be to her? She would discover the truth about me eventually and then she would treat me like the trash that I am. No, it was pretty obvious that this girl was way out of my league and I am not going to try to pretend that there is anything here except some cash to be made.

It seems like she is not interested in the one and only thing that I have to offer her, so what the hell am I still doing standing here?

"You sh-shocked me," She stutters. I nod my understanding as I turn around to leave this intriguing girl. _My career choice has surprised her is all. _She stops me again.

"Um, I am just curious - how much do you charge?"

_Is she kidding me_? I try to stave it off, but a sliver of hope escapes. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that this can only end badly for me.

If anything she wants a piece of me…my body. She has no idea what makes me up. She wouldn't want to know. She would run for the hills if she knew a day in the life of Jasper fucking Hale. _Why do I care?_

_This. Is. Business. Remember that. _

I pivot around again, taking in her succulent body from head to toe. "Well that depends on what kind of service that I could provide for you." I say saucily. This is all business, she either wants it or she doesn't.

"What kind? You do more than one thing?" She asks confused. Her face is crimson, obviously embarrassed by the topic of conversation.

Yeah, she wasn't kidding when she said she didn't get out of the house much. I chuckle at that but then my mind starts working overtime. There is one thing that I know for sure and that is I want this girl…her body, of course. I want to touch that creamy flesh covering her collarbone, suckle on her sweet little titties, dig my fingers into those tresses while I bury myself in her heat. The need is strong, so very strong, because I know that for the few minutes I am in this beautiful girl I will forget…

_How can I get this to happen? What do I charge?_

If I said that I charge too little she will think I am a dirty, drug-using hooker. I was in no way, shape or form, a ten-dollar whore.

On the other hand, if I am too expensive she might not be able to afford it. My usual six hundred dollar fare is a lot of money for some people. Especially in this fucked up economy. But I didn't just lay down for anyone, I may be a whore but I was real picky about my clientele. For six hundred dollars, only affluent women could afford me. Women that had money, secrets, and strong desires.

James and Jessica charged much less and you can tell by the dirty, sick fucks that they drove off with. I couldn't help but worry that something was going to happen to them someday. I had to frequently time my calls to James to make sure he was okay after he picked up some junkie looking for a cheap blow job. James lived for the danger.

I did this because I felt like this is where I belonged. I didn't deserve any better. Claire reminded me everyday of what a poor excuse for a human being I am. Even thinking her name made me wince.

I settle for a sum that will still put a dent in someone's pocket but not bad enough to be turned away if this is what she is really looking for.

"Well, to just name a few, since it doesn't look like you would really be interested, there is straight up sex, that's two hundred, but there are extra "perks", if you will. Any kind of oral would be extra..." She interrupts my speech with a sharp bark of laughter. I stop, perplexed.

"You mean a girl would pay extra to give head?"

I raise my eyebrow in surprise at her question.

"You'd be surprised what turns certain women on." I look at her suspiciously now. It sounds like she is awfully close to mocking me.

"What else?" She says as she tilts her head to the side, and purses her lips in a very fuckable way. I am surprised that she isn't pulling out a pad and paper to take all of this down. Is she writing a school paper? Is she a reporter, looking for an expose on a male prostitute?

She starts barraging me with questions and the more she does it the more I know that this is a lost cause. I am talking to a curious naïve little girl that has no idea how each and every one of her questions is demeaning me, making me want to crawl in a hole.

My responses become laced with annoyance; clearly this girl is here to make me fucking miserable. I glance back to the crowd wishing I had never come over here. I would have admired her from afar and used her for a fantasy when I had to be with one of my less desirable regulars. I remember how well it had worked on Leah and I couldn't wait to try it again. Now I had more to work with. I have a smile and a voice. Oh, the scenarios I will create with my new found knowledge. I was mentally rubbing my hands together in anticipation. I could imagine her writhing underneath me, her hair spread out, moaning in her deep, sexy voice…

I notice Victoria's car in the crowd. Shit! I wonder how long she will hang around. Victoria was one of my favorite regulars. She was hot and she was a fucking maniac in bed. I have never met anyone that could give better head than that fireball.

I turn my head back to this beautiful girl. Why did she have to be so cruel with her questions? I highly doubt that she even knows what she is doing, but her fascination with my life choice makes me feel like a science project.

For the first time tonight I notice that she is wearing a ring.

_Well, now doesn't that just call us a little even?_

She is no better than me. As beautiful as she is I have no respect for cheating spouses. I know that if I ever find the right girl and for some goddamn unidentified reason she wants to spend the rest of her life with me I will never seek out another. I am aware that it is hypocritical since ninety-five percent of my clientele are married, but I never said I respected them. I had no problem taking their cash.

I decide to throw some of her curiosity back in her face.

"I see that fancy ring your sportin', so what are you doing talking to a whore? And does your husband know?"

She looks like she is about to swoon for a second. I start to reach out my hand to catch her before I realize that I am not supposed to care. I draw my hand back before she notices. I watch her look down at her ring, twisting it with her fingers. "My husband is gone." She responds quietly.

She looks so sad, my heart clenches for some unknown reason and it makes me furious that she is having this affect on me.

"Business?" I try to sound condescending, shaking my head in shame.

"Um, no, uh, he actually passed away about nine months ago." Her face is as pale as a ghost now.

FUCK! I am one sick motherfucker. This girl was just fucking lonely and I bring up her dead husband.

"I'm sorry, goddamn…I…" What can I possibly fucking say? I wanted to hurt her as she had me, but that was going a bit too far, even for a pathetic asshole, like me.

She was shaking her head. She didn't want to talk about it and who could blame her. I just drag my hand through my hair for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. This girl was driving me nuts. Why does this girl have me so twisted?

_B-U-S-I-N-E-S-S. What the fuck else was there to understand? Why I am taking this personally?_ Again, I wonder why she is bringing out all these emotions in me.

"I wasn't aware that people in your...profession...could look like you." She blurts. Her face flames again as she looks down to the ground.

_She likes the way I look?_ My stomach jumps at the thought. I didn't know why. It shouldn't be a shock. To girls that only cared about outward appearances I was apparently a great fucking catch. I am not being conceited, my whole adult life I have turned the heads of young and old, I can't seem to go many places without getting hit on.

Honestly, I don't understand what girls see in me, my hair is a _dirty_ blond and way too hard to control and my body is too skinny. My face is nothing special, my eyes just a plain blue.

My parents used to say that my eyes turned different colors when I was angry or passionate about something, but I think they were just fucking with me. I am pretty sure they just wanted me to think there was something special about me. I used to run to the bathroom when I was angry just to see if I could see what they were talking about, but whenever I stared at my reflection in the mirror they seemed to be the same dull blue.

_But at least they had life in them at that point. _

It's not that I am not content now. I have built a life here, away from the derision and disgust I saw in the faces of my hometown residents when they found themselves walking on the same side of the street as me.

"You'd be surprised at some of my competition. Men have to be far better looking because women aren't as desperate for…company as men are." My voice was thick and laced with my dreaded accent. I didn't hear it come out very much anymore and I was grateful for it. It always led to unwelcome conversations. These discussions inevitably brought up things like my past, something I avoided talking about at all costs. James is the only guy who knew the real me.

She starts to walk away from me. Well, I guess she is done with me. Wow, not even with a word of parting. My head starts to fall but I pick it back up.

My eyes burn for just a split second. What the fuck!

_This doesn't mean anything. I am not feeling anything. Man the fuck up._

As I begin to close myself off she stops in her tracks, as if she has forgotten something. She turns slowly on her heel and gives me a questionable look. She tilted her head again her hair falling into her face. "Well…are you coming?"

I hesitate before I take a few steps toward the car. Did she mean what I think she means?

_Oh God, I am in fucking trouble._

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**AN: I will have the 3****rd**** chapter out by the weekend and you should all know what the topic of that chappy will be! (The better part of this night.) You know I appreciate all of your thoughts.**


	3. Business and Pleasure

**AN: Thanks again, for everyone adding this to your fav's and alerts and reviewing. You all know that is the best way you can tell us what you think.**

**I just want to remind everyone that this fic is Jasper's POV of Finding Relief and in order to avoid some of the redundancy, and to change this up a bit some of the detail and dialogue has been summarized. For the full story you should really check out Finding Relief from Bella's POV. (This is based on chapter 7 of FR.)**

**P.S. Chapters will not normally be this long. **

**I don't own twilight or any of it's characters.**

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"_**The rule of my life is to make business a pleasure, and pleasure my business" – Aaron Burr**_

**Chapter 3**

Once I get in the car I have this irrational fear that she's going to laugh at me and tell me that it is just a big fucking joke. I sit tense waiting for her to say something.

"Where to?" She asks. My mind does somersaults in my head. _C'mon, this is your damn job. Suck it up shithead._

I ignore her question temporarily as I ponder my usual protocol. Should I forgo the rules spiel? She looks nervous enough and the last thing I want to do is scare her away. Man, what the fuck is my problem. This is just another chick that needs to get laid.

"We have to go over a few things first." I hesitate. I stare out the front windshield as I recite the rules associated with spending time with a fucker. _Literally speaking_. Without looking at her I can still sense her apprehension so I make it quick. "I have to see the money first; no sex without a condom…if you don't have one of your own I have a supply at my room; I don't answer personal questions; and there is no kissing on the lips."

I quickly study her while she processes the information. My eyes travel back to the front windshield where I briefly squeeze my eyes shut. I can't shake the affect this girl is having on me but I refuse to be unprofessional. She is expecting me to perform…she is going to pay me to perform and I can't let this gut wrenching feeling I have go on.

She brings me out of my inner struggle by laughing. Her laughter is the sweetest thing I have ever heard. I avoid looking at her because I want too so badly. I want to see what she looks like when she is in a fit of mirth, but I deny myself and just drown myself in the sound. It is a contagious sound. It makes me want to laugh too.

"That's a little "_Pretty Woman_" isn't it?" She asks between chuckles.

"Yeah it is, but that is why we still keep that rule - because the clientele expect it. I am very strict about the rules." I add the last part for my benefit, as well as hers.

I decide to tell her the results of my last physical in case she is worried that I have some disease, which I fully expect, but when I glimpse at her, it looks like she is frowning. Is she upset that I am not planning on infecting her with some STD?

I face her, trying to figure her out. That is a mistake. _Will this be my first mistake of many tonight? _I am already too interested. When I turn in her direction her face is inches away from mine. She is reaching in the backseat for something and she freezes when our eyes lock on each other.

I am trying to read what her eyes are trying to tell me but I have no idea…I am not sure if I have ever seen that look before. Scared, my eyes flicker down to her lips. Mistake number two.

They look so fucking soft. So ready to be licked and sucked. I avert my eyes immediately and mentally give my head a fucking shake. "What is it that you want to do tonight?" I ask, still waiting for the imminent rejection.

"I want relief." She states matter-of-factly. "Straight sex should get me that."

My eyes shut again because I cannot control my emotions. _She wants to have sex with me_.

She throws the cash and an iPod in my lap. The cash is a reminder of why I am here tonight and why she picked me. As she said, she wants relief. This girl could probably get any guy she wants but she chose me because I charged for my services. She was avoiding emotional attachment. This is not personal, it is a release, and if that is all I can give her than I will make damn sure she gets a good ride.

I am aware that this is a one time deal. This girl isn't a regular. _This girl isn't coming back_.

"After you finish counting, you can search for something to listen to. How far before we get to where we have to go?" She asks. I can hear her voice shake and I can tell she is very nervous.

I pocket the money and give her quick directions to the apartment that I share with James and Jessica. I stare down at her iPod trying unsuccessfully to ignore the attraction that I feel toward this little girl.

My body is already on fire and I can't wait to bury myself in her, which would then allow me to bury these strange feelings I have been enduring since I laid eyes on her. I can get back to normal. Basically, I just had to "hit that", and then I could focus on more important things.

This is just a new experience for me. I haven't been doing this long enough to run into someone so beautiful but naïve, and to actually have the opportunity to be with her, even just for a short time is just blowing my mind. I am positive that once our encounter is over all of these random emotions that I am feeling will go away. Right along with her.

And I am so fucking desperate to believe that bullshit.

She asks how long I have been doing this. _She_ doesn't seem to be forgetting that this isn't a date. _Why can't I?_

Frustrated at myself, I give up at picking out a song from her iPod. I hand it back to her and tell her that I don't know what to pick. To be honest, I can't name one band or song on the damn thing. All I can do is smell the strawberries and freesia that make up her scent. The entrancing way she is gripping the gearshift. The graceful way she shifts from gear-to-gear. Oh fuck, and now she is softly singing.

_Goddamn_. _She isn't even fucking trying to do this to me._

I am contemplating the possibility of cumming in my pants without any contact, like a fucking twelve year old. "What? No more Twenty Questions?" I ask to create a distraction to dispel my turbulent thoughts.

She gives me a crooked smile at that, and then her eyes light up. "What is your name? I...I guess I should know, right? Is that OK? Is it too personal?" Her eyes are on the road but I stare long and hard at her. Should I tell her a fake name? Or not answer at all…citing it a personal question?

"You can call me Jazz." Mistake number three. _Why the fuck did I do that?_ I know why. This is the only time I am going to be with this girl and I want…I need to hear her say my name. She looks skeptical and then, for some reason, a mischievous glint shines in her eyes. She is so fucking adorable.

"Aren't you going to ask me what my name is?" She says with a silly grin on her face. I just want to eat her up.

_Would it hurt…to know her name?_ Yes. Why? Because I want to know it.

That will not be enough. I will want to know what her name is, where she was born, what she does for a living, what her favorite band and song is, what her favorite color is. I want to know what makes her so desperate that she is willing to be with me, even for a little while.

"No." I want to forget who I am and who she is. I want to forget about the regrets that tomorrow will bring – for both of us.

She looks upset for a moment but it disappears when she changes her train of thought. "So what do you do when you aren't attracted to a girl? Umm, do you have a difficult time performing?" She fidgets in her seat.

Is she actually worried about that? The thought of this girl in front of me having any kind of self esteem issues is laughable. I decide to show her how she affects me. I grab her hand off of the steering wheel and press it into my straining erection. "Between your singing and the way you are handling that gearshift you don't have anything to worry about in that respect."

She blushes. I can't help but to take my forefinger and trace the blush that came across her face, eliciting another one. When I touch her an electric shock runs through me and makes my spine tingle.

_How am I going to last?_ I start to wonder. Most of the time I am taking pills to keep it up, now I am wondering how the fuck I am going to make this good for her when all I want to do is cum inside of her instantly…_to claim her as mine_. Mistake number four.

We are here. "Turn into that apartment complex." I instruct her. She stops the car and as I take off my seat belt; I close my eyes briefly and say a little prayer. _God help me_ – is pretty much the gist of my plea.

"Look _Jazz_," Oh God. Her saying may name made my stomach jump up to my throat. Mistake number three - multiplied by a thousand.

"I obviously have never done anything like this before and I am not sure if when it comes down to it that I will actually be able to go through with it." I start to reassure her that I will do everything in my power to make sure she enjoys it, but she continues. "If I can't, I will still expect you to keep the money that I gave you for your time." Well, that would be real fucking nice if that is what my motivation for doing this is. Now I was irrationally angry that she brought up the money. _Goddammit_.

It was becoming a monumental task at simply being professional here. I was practically certified at this job and yet this slip of a girl is tearing down my defenses.

_She is a just a girl. She is a customer. She is nobody. She is nothing._

She is out of the car.

I quickly exit the car and guide her into the building by pressing my hand into her lower back.

The elevator up to the rental was quiet. She asks only one question related to my co-workers and I assure her that we will be alone for the evening and not be disturbed.

Once we are in the apartment I turn on the lights and then come back for her. She is pressed against the door looking like a frightened rabbit. It takes a lot out of me not to smile. I know she is really nervous and is fearful of not knowing what is going to happen. I try to relax her by offering her something to drink. but she declines.

Thank God. That may have required more conversation and more anticipation. I am more than ready for the festivities as I have been hard most of the evening anticipating getting this girl underneath me. I would not have relished having to wait for her to sip on a drink.

"No, take me to your room." She whispers. I hold out my hand when all I really want to do is pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and run like hell. _Slow down, asshat_.

We walk slowly down the long hallway into the room where I have brought many others. In the beginning I fucked anyone willing to put up the cash. Since then, I have narrowed my clientele down to about ten regulars. I don't often have a night off between the ten of them.

Victoria would have been this evening's paycheck. She is a demanding woman and I know she will be expecting answers from me on the next visit. I will have to come up with a good excuse. I could be truthful and tell her I picked someone else up, but I know that would just bring on a bout of jealousy in which I did not want to deal with.

I always made my patrons feel like they were my only one, and while most of the time this was a successful ploy, on occasion it brought out bad traits like jealousy and clinginess. I put up with it since they were desirable for other reasons.

I shut the door and turn the lock. I gaze at her unabashedly. She is impossibly more beautiful in the dim light. It appears as if she doesn't know what to do.

_This is going to be a long night._ Deep inside that makes me happy. _Happy_. Boy, I haven't used that word to describe my mood in a long time.

"Would you like me to undress you or would you like to do it yourself?" I watch as her chocolate orbs double in size. _How innocent is she?_ I meant to ask her that but she holds out her arm as if she is forming her answer and doesn't want me to speak.

I sigh. I really should stop her from doing this. She is really going to have some issues tomorrow and probably for some time afterward. But I am fucking selfish and I want her. There have been so very few things to get excited about in my life. I want this for myself and unfortunately this pure little girl is going to suffer because I don't have the strength to be the rational one.

I didn't force her to come here; my conscience does battle with my mind and heart. Sure, I approached her, but that is the extent of my coercion. This is her choice and she followed through with it by forking out the cash.

"Let's just do what comes naturally." She shakes her head after that statement and I think groans softly. She pauses and then adds, with a grimace on her face. "I'll just undress myself."

She bends down to remove her boots, and while she is doing that I slip off my shoes and socks and then whip off one of my shirts in record time. I am in the process of raising the hem of my t-shirt when I notice that she still hasn't taken off one of her boots.

For the second time I have to tell myself to slow the fuck down. I am not a kid and this is not Christmas morning. I wait for her to catch up a little as I massage the tense muscles in my neck. This girl is going to drive me nuts.

I am so lost in thought that the next thing that registers is seeing her top fall from her fingers onto the floor. I raise my head and stare at her perfection. _Fucking gorgeous_. She had a black lace bra on, I can see an outline of her nipples through it and my mouth starts collecting saliva. My eyes move up to her face and she mesmerizes me, without effort. She is a siren. I would give her everything I own; willingly.

My eyes refuse to leave hers as I take off my t-shirt and unbutton my jeans. The expression on her face is filled with lust and desire and I know that mine is equal to that, if not more.

The resolve is clear in her eyes as she takes the necessary steps to bring herself right to me. Our chests are just inches apart. She raises her hand and places it over my tattoo and the travels lower to my nipple piercing. My breath catches. Can she feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest? Can she feel my breath going in and out in small gasps? Can she feel what she is doing to me? Heart acceleration and breathy pants are actions that you can't make up…and you can't downplay. I want to hide myself from her. I am not supposed to be this affected. _I can't be this affected_. I am on the job. She'll think I am an amateur.

She is seducing me and I don't know why. Isn't that my job? But I have no will to stop her. Her hands drift lower over my belly button and down to my fucking rock hard cock. She begins to stroke it through my jeans. But I can still feel the heat of her small hand through the soft denim. It fucking feels like heaven. I shut my eyes and hiss before I can stop it.

I whimper when her hand ceases its movement. I fucking _whimper_ for Christsakes. My hands find their way to her collarbone and I massage it, in a relaxing motion. She looks frightened so I move in, embracing her as I lower my mouth to her shoulder, finally getting to taste her. Her skin is like satin and it tastes so damn good. She tastes like apples and cinnamon, sweet and tangy at the same time. I place open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulders, gorging myself on her unique flavor.

"Oh God, no, I can't." She suddenly starts to pull away frantically, but I can't let her go.

_No._

I grasp her elbows to keep her from retreating. My actions probably appear feverish as it feels like my desperation is obvious.

"I can't. I can't do this. I am so sorry." She backs away, but I won't let her. I pull her into a tight hold whispering urgently, "Yes, yes you can. Just try again. You need this, don't you? Just feel. Feel how good this feels."

My hands skim along the sides of her torso, across her ribcage. "Oh, please…" She begs, not knowing what she really wants.

I want to tell her that I am scared, too. I am scared of what she is doing to me now, scared of what is going to happen to me tomorrow. If I were any kind of decent human being I would tell her that she is right, that she needs to run from me now, but the words will not come out. Instead my plea is hopeful and full of promise. A promise that I will guarantee if she gives me the chance. If only she will let me…

_Goddammit. STOP for fucksakes_. I am not going to beg. If she doesn't want me, then so be it. She said I could keep the fucking, goddamn money. Isn't that all that matters? But I can't stop myself from making one last ditch attempt.

"Don't think, just feel. Come here." I sit on the bed and bring her with me so she stands between my legs. I rub down her thighs and stare up at her, silently begging her to give this a chance.

There is a moment of indecision and then resolve in her eyes. Her fingers come up and thread into my hair and it feels so good. My head falls back onto my shoulders and my eyes shut as she slowly massages my head.

_Fuck. I want this every night. _

Okay, goddammit, mistake number five. And that covers all the times that I have screwed up with my twisted thoughts tonight.

What the hell am I talking about anyway? I don't want this. My life is fine the way it is. This…this is too complicated. If she were dumb enough to give me half a chance she would make my life a living hell. I would never measure up and inevitably she would leave me.

I am brought out of my internal struggles when I feel something brush against my lips. My eyes snap open and her thumb is brushing across my lower lip, she is staring down at her movement with desire and passion. I can't take much more. I need her. Now.

My movements are jerky and uncoordinated but I manage to stand up and get her bra off, and then sit back down to lower her jeans and panties. She grasps onto my shoulders so she can step out of them.

She stands in front of me now, completely nude. _She is exquisite_. I shut my eyes again as my brain captures the image for storage. I open my eyes and fixate them on her breasts, her flat stomach, her manicured pussy, and her slim milky white thighs. Taking snapshots, Polaroid's that I can pull out when I lay in bed alone at night.

But I am not going to feel sorry for myself right now. I am not going to throw a pity party at this moment, because I have this fine piece in front of me and according to the look in her eyes she is no longer wary about getting this party started.

I study her tits, with her rosy pink nipples for a moment. I bring my hand up to caress them. They fit right into the palm of my hand. Her nipples tighten and pucker into my palm. I can't wait any longer. I stretch up and bring one of those perky buds up to my waiting mouth. I suck and nibble at her breast while my other hand gently pinches the nipple forcing a low grumble from her chest.

I let go of her distended nipple and look down to see that she is all ready for me. Her cunt is wet and dripping, begging for me to help find the relief that she requested. The relief that I so desperately desire as well.

I drag her onto the bed and immediately attack her throat, nipping and sucking. I insert a finger into her folds and pump in and out while I gently massage her clit. But when she says my fucking name on a long drawn out moan…I…am…done. Mistake number three coming back to haunt me again. I add another finger and pump harder and faster. She is mumbling words of pleasure, but all my focus is remaining on subduing the aching in my cock. My dick is throbbing, my need for release growing by the second. My boxers have the telltale wet spot indicating that my need is at a breaking point.

It means that if I don't get inside of her soon my dick is going to find it's own fucking climax. Definitely not wanting that to happen, in lightning speed I get up, retrieve a condom and dispose of the remainder of my clothing.

I crawl back on the bed and stand on my knees intending to sheath my dick, but she stops my labors by grabbing a hold of it. "Shit." I hiss through my teeth. The feel of that soft hand surrounding my engorged cock is enough to drive me fucking mad. She is pumping it now, lightly grazing my balls. She notices the moisture beaded at the tip and collects it with the pad of her thumb, spreading it along my hardened length. My body under its own volition bucks into her hand to create the much-desired friction. My groan is pleasure mixed with pent-up frustration. _Doesn't she realize that she is going to make me lose it?_

I push her back on the bed forcing her to release me. I immediately focus my attention on her neck but move quickly down to those sweet little breasts. She is panting and moaning. She is unknowingly undulating her hips against my thigh, also looking for anything to rub against to relieve the building pressure in her core.

I rise again, this time to apply the condom. As I am rolling it on I notice that my hands are shaking. This girl has got me tied in knots. I feel like this is my first time. I am worried about pleasing her and cumming too early.

Without delay, I lay back down and insert myself between her thighs and slowly penetrate her pussy. "Oh God." Escapes out of my mouth. Mistake number six. But that mistake is so fucking worth saying out loud how fantastic this feels. Her hot, wet cunt encasing me is the best feeling I have ever known. It was like taking a drug; the warmth spreading through me, relaxing me, making me feel light, and carefree. Euphoric. I bury my head in her shoulder and breath in her scent.

She is so fucking tight and I can tell by her face that I have caused her some discomfort so I wait a moment to let her adjust to the union. I gradually pull out and push back in. I hear a sigh and then she pushes up into me. _She is ready._ I pull out and dive back in. I am restraining myself from pounding into her. The exertion forms beads of sweat all over my body. I never remember perspiring this much - ever.

My thighs are quivering and I know my orgasm will not be put off much longer. I want to watch her face as she cums so I pull my head from her shoulder and look into her face. God, what I see there amazes me. Her head is pushed back into the pillows, her neck fully exposed; her mouth is open in an "O" and her eyes are half closed.

"God, so close…please…don't stop." She moans.

I am pounding into her now. I crush and I slam into her. _Cum for me darlin', cum with me_, my mind screams. Her eyes roll back in her head. _NO!_ I let out a frustrated growl.

I want to watch her, I want her to watch me. I want her to know who she is fucking. I am not her dead husband.

_I am Jasper Hale. Open your eyes. Look. At. Me._

"Open your eyes." It comes out in a strained and foreign voice. But all of a sudden I feel the impact and tremors of her orgasm. She lets out a series of strangled moans. The combination of her sounds of pleasure and the contractions on my cock send me into a staggering climax. Instead of the blackness that usually overtakes me during my orgasm this time I saw a million different shapes and colors, like a kaleidoscope.

"Fuck" I whisper as my body shudders and releases its load.

I lift my head from the crook of her shoulder, which is where I had planted it after my orgasm ripped through me and I see that her eyes are still pinched shut.

_And then that was it. It was over. _It was like a roller coaster ride; you wait in line all day and the ride lasts thirty seconds. But this time it was my whole life that I had waited and not just all day. But it was too late, I had already made too many mistakes in my life. To say that I was disappointed would have been an understatement but I really didn't want to go there right now. I knew I wouldn't go there later either. I would find a way to purge this. I always do.

I rolled over onto my back and lay there waiting for my breathing to return to normal. I catch her look over at me and then pull the sheet up to her neck and turn her face away. I hadn't had time to remove the disillusionment from my face and she had seen my displeasure. Mistake number seven. I failed at making the customer feel like she was the only one.

I should tell her that it isn't _her_ that I am disappointed in. She is incredible…fucking magnificent. _I want to keep her._ And that is where the discontent lies.

_I. Cannot. Have. Her._

She would not want me if I could handle her. Annoyed, I get up and dress quickly, leaving her in the room without another word.

_Why am I being so fucking rude? This is not her fault. This is all me._

_Jesus, she was so scared and how the hell am I helping her?_

I have to call James. There is no way I am going home tonight. I didn't want to talk or see him. I can hide my feelings from everyone except James. He knew me too well and we had been through too much together. He would see right through me and demand to know the details of what happened.

_I can't. I can't do it._ I pick up the phone and dial.

"Hey Bro." James answers.

"Hey, I am spending the night at the apartment." I am met with silence.

"What's going on? Everything okay?" He questions.

_No. No it isn't._

"Yeah…it's fine. Um…I just found someone that wants an overnight." I lie.

He still hesitates before answering. "Okay Jazz…do you want me to come pick you up in the morning?"

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it."

"Well, will she be gone by nine? Because I have a hair appointment tomorrow."

"Yeah, nine-o'clock is fine. I'll be here. Talk to you then." I hang up when I see the girl peeking into the room.

"Hey, did you need a ride or anything?" She says in her silky voice.

"No, thanks. I am just going to spend the night here." I respond trying to look anywhere but at her.

"Well, I am going to get going, um, thanks." Before I know it, she is gone.

Out the door. Out of my life. I didn't even say goodbye. I didn't even say "thank you" or "your welcome". I didn't display my usual charm. I knew I would never see her again, and for once in my misbegotten life I could not muster the wherewithal to pretend that it didn't fucking matter.

What if I could get her to come back? Maybe I could change her mind? Without thinking of the ramifications I run back down the stairs and race out the door. I finally spot her car just as she is leaving the parking lot. I watch her turn out onto the road and flee.

I walk backward a few steps until I hit the outer wall of the building and press the back of my head into the cool glass of the windowpane. My eyes squeeze shut as the regrets begin already.

When I first brought her here I had hoped that she could make me forget for just a few seconds. She far exceeded my expectations.

I forgot my name, where I came from, what I had done and what I do.

I was just a boy, who wanted to be loved by a girl.

But reality always interrupts fantasy, and I realize that bad boys don't deserve good girls.

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**AN: I took that 2****nd**** to the last line from Notting Hill. (In case any of you recognized it.) Please tell me what you thought. So, are you guys ready to learn a little about Jazz now?**


	4. Best Friend

**AN: Thanks to everyone that has reviewed this story so far, and put it in your fav's or alerts. **

**I am finding it too difficult, as a beginner to work on both of these stories at once. So this will be the last chapter UNTIL "Finding Relief" is over. There are only about seven chapters left in that story so it should only be about three to four weeks. I am still going to try my best to get another one out before that.**

**Lots of love to BetaQueen Cullen818.**

**Enjoy.**

**I don't own twilight or any of it's characters**

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"_**When it hurts to look back, and you're too scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there." – Anonymous**_

**Chapter 4**

_I am helpless as I hear the screaming of neighbors, and the sounds of sirens as ambulances and police cars arrive on the scene – the front yard of my childhood home._

_I am holding her broken body. Sobs rip through my body as she lays limp in my arms. _

_Her little arm stretches up slowly, as if a one hundred pound weight is attached to it and she places it on my tear soaked cheek. _She is trying to comfort me??

_She speaks in a breathless whisper, gasping, but I can hear her as clear as day. "J-J-Jazzy, I am…so" she pauses as the pain overtakes her again, "so…s-s-sorry." A tear slides down her cheek as her eyes shut and her hand falls. _

_She is still breathing but it is shallow. I open my mouth to scream. _

Somebody help her. Pleeeaassee.

_But I can't scream…I can't speak. I try to force the air out, but it won't leave my body. My heart pounds rapidly as I begin to lose consciousness._

_---_

I jump awake, my body shaking uncontrollably, as if I am freezing. But I am not shaking because I am cold. I am scared.

The nightmare repeats itself on a daily basis and the feelings are so real, it is so vivid in its detail and the emotions are so raw and unfettered. It is like Groundhog Day every time I shut my eyes. I sigh.

I turn my face into the pillow and breathe in deep. _Fuck_. It still smells like the girl. I didn't strip the sheets as soon as she left like I do with all of the others. When I came back in from trying to stop her from leaving I plopped down on the bed and soaked up her scent, eventually falling into a slumber.

I lay with my nose buried in the pillow that she had laid on. Her hair had spread out on. The pillow that she had pushed her head back into when she arched her back from the force of her climax.

_Great._ I've stopped shaking but now I have a massive wood.

I fist my dick and stroke it momentarily before I remove my hand. I haven't jacked off since I was in high school and I am not going to do it now. I won't do it, even though I am as hard as a rock and I have such a good visual of the girl; her hair all tangled and sexy, her bottom lip swollen from her biting down so hard on it as she tried to contain her moans. I doubt she even knew she did it. I had to stop thinking of last night. My cock is now throbbing.

_What happened to out of sight, out of mind? _

I have already had her. She should be out of my system. So what does it matter if she was the best fuck I think I have ever had?

_My God, I don't even want to go there. _

I don't think I will ever forget the intensity of that orgasm, or experience it ever again. I remember the colors, and the shapes I witnessed as my release took hold, in perfect clarity. It felt like the condom was overflowing, my spurts came again and again as I pushed deeper into the heart of her core. I pressed in as far as I could, hoping to get deeper inside of her than anyone ever had. To touch a piece of her that no one else would ever reach.

_Goddammit!_ I look over at the digital alarm clock. Five in the morning. James won't be here for another four hours. I decide a cold shower is a necessity. Stat.

I make quick work of lathering up my body and hair, just ghosting over my still erect penis.

As I soap up my neck for shaving, my mind drifts to the reason that I had woken up so abruptly this morning and how equally abruptly those old, but fresh images and fears disappeared as soon as I sniffed the scent of strawberries on my pillow.

She is still making me forget and she isn't even here. I briefly picture what it would be like if she was still here with me. If she had slept in the bed with me all night in my arms, if we woke up together and I made her breakfast in bed, and then we would make lo…FUCK!

I can fantasize all fucking day about the girl, but the fact remains that she isn't coming back. I am still a whore with a past and she is still too good to be with me.

But I can't stop from thinking that maybe if I picked my shit up, if I threw away my life and started over, maybe if I saw a therapist, or went back to school - then if I find her or she comes to me again, she would consider…

Jesus, maybe if I ate all my fucking vegetables I could win a Nobel Prize.

_When had I become such a fool? _

I know exactly when. The girl. This is ridiculous and I am DONE. I think this with force. My mind is giving the rest of my body the orders to get the fuck over it.

I walk out onto our small balcony and sit in one of the wicker chairs that Jessica had purchased for the apartment. I shut my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to purge the girl from my mind, but I know deep down I will never forget her.

I chuckle humorlessly when I imagine what she is thinking right now. I wouldn't be surprised it she had her head in the toilet suffering from the disgrace she felt for letting someone like me touch her.

I rake my fingers through my still slightly damp tresses and cradle my head in my hands.

And that is how James found me some time later.

He walks in with his usual arrogance. He's wearing a ripped t-shirt and faded torn jeans. I have to chuckle. It never matters what James is wearing, he has the same problem I do when it comes to the female population. They adore us.

He comes out onto the deck and his eyes immediately scan over me.

"Hey Jazz." He slaps me on the back. "So, how was your night?" He asks as he wiggles his brows.

I muster up the best impression of someone who had just got fucked all night. I smile tiredly, like it hurts my face to do so. "Man that bitch was so horny I didn't think I was going to be able to get it up again."

He looks at me worriedly. "Did you take anything?"

"Just a Cialis, nothing else. I promise." I know he is worried that I took some kind of upper. I know better. I learned two years ago that pills and drugs only make your problems go away temporarily. Then they multiplied when you got hooked; when you enjoy the benefits a little too much or a little too long.

James looks hard at me. I can tell he wants to believe me, but he knows I am lying about something. I would rather tell him the truth about the girl then let him believe I am shooting up or taking pills again.

He puts his hand through his shaggy hair. "Oh God, c'mon man, we can get some breakfast before I have to take care of this mop on my head."

As we are walking out the door James says, "So you'll never guess who came and saw me yesterday. I think it was the best head I ever got. Right in the fucking Walmart parking lot…"

Ugh.

^*^

We make it to the restaurant and my mood is still sullen. James rakes his hand through his overgrown mane again and lets out a huff.

"Let's have it Jazz. Stop fucking lying to me and tell me what's going on. You're freaking me out a bit."

I know why he is freaked out and he has nothing to worry about.

---

About four years back, James and I decided to try out college. We were both attending Purdue and had an off-site apartment that was close enough to walk to campus. Between James' dad and my parents our expenses were completely covered.

We were very rarely ever seen in class since socializing, getting laced and then fucked were our main priorities. James was always the instigator of our newest fix; thoroughly researching our latest experimental drug.

I was always jealous of James. He took these drugs for the fun of it. He took them to enjoy the perks or benefit of getting wasted and not caring about anything. It was like a science project to him.

I took them to become numb. To escape. I needed to forget the anguish I suffered on a daily basis, caused by my responsibility for Claire and her untimely death.

We never settled on one drug for too long. James was a good moderator. He knew exactly when we needed to cut it out, before dependency and addiction became an issue.

Except once.

Apparently, James tolerance for prescription pills was stronger than mine. We were taking Oxycotin and I had overindulged after a particularly vivid and extended version of the dream I had this morning. I needed a fix. Bad. Carelessly, not bothering to count, I downed whatever happened to spill out of the bottle and into my hand.

By the time James had found me in bed I was barely alive. I could hardly see him through my half-lidded, unfocused eyes but the horror on his face was palpable. I could hear a guttural roar from him before I heard him yell again for help.

I wanted to tell him to stop. I didn't want help. I wanted to die.

"Jazz, open your eyes, stay with me." I could hear him say frantically.

I voluntarily closed my eyes, looking for the nothingness that I craved. It was then that I felt hot wetness coat my cheek and nose. My eyes fluttered open to see James face inches from mine. _James would hold himself responsible_.

I couldn't possibly do that to anyone, knowing the pain of having someone's death on your conscience. So I fought. I fought to obtain lucidity, to breath until there were EMT's there to help me do it. Then I succumbed to blackness.

When I woke up in the hospital after getting my stomach pumped and passing out, I noticed James was pacing the floor talking into his cell phone.

"Dad, you have to take care of this. They're going to take him away. Please…" I had never heard him beg his dad, or anyone, for anything.

"It won't happen again." He said vehemently. "I promise." He added with conviction. He clicked the phone shut. His dad and him never exchanged greetings. When they were done talking – they hung up.

He looked over at me then. His tired eyes widened when he saw that I was awake. Immediately, he was at my side hovering over me in…anger.

"Jazz, seriously man, what the fuck were you thinking? Goddammit. You almost died, you motherfucker." He had grabbed a hold of my hospital gown in a fist.

"I'm sorry." I rasped. My throat was raw from the tube they had placed down it.

"You're _sorry_??" But he gave in, as he sunk down into the chair next to the bed and held his head in his hands. "Fuck, Jazz. You're like my own fucking brother. What would I have done without you?" He looked up at me, his eyes clouded with tears. "Sometimes you are the only person that keeps me sane." Seeing James like this was a shock. James was a rock. He was a man's man. He didn't break down or admit to having feelings.

His dad had made the arrangements to get me discharged from the hospital. The paperwork of my visit seemingly disappeared from the hospital charts. No records existed.

James made me go to bed when I got home and would not let me get up for several days. The only time I was allowed to leave the bed was to use the toilet or the shower. He didn't leave the apartment. He never left my room except to make meals and use the bathroom himself. We played games on the PlayStation or read magazines or books. He even brought in some board games that the old tenants had left in the storage space.

Ever since then James would pummel anyone that offered any kind of drug to me. He stopped taking them himself also. He said there were other forms of entertainment we could enjoy instead. And that - we did.

---

James is now fidgeting in his seat. "Spill it man...your fucking pissing me off, you little shit."

_Woe_. "Sorry bro, I have just been doing a lot of thinking."

He waits for more.

"James…"

His eyebrows shoot up when I hesitate. "I am about to come over there and put you in a headlock if you don't spit it the fuck out."

He moves to get up and I hold him off. "It's nothing serious. I just wonder sometimes…don't you want more than this? Something better?" I ask this while my hand nervously taps the table.

He looks perplexed and then he snorts. "What'dya mean? We have everything." He smiles his award-winning smile. I really believe that James is happy.

"You're right man." I concede. Life is pretty good. Considering that if we really don't have anything, we at least have each other. And that is good...for now.

"Let's go home. I just bought the new Call of Duty and I wanna kick your ass." He says rubbing his hands together.

"I thought you had to get your haircut." I remind him.

"No. It can wait. It's been a while since we spent the day together."

I pull out my phone quickly and send a quick text to Marcus. Band practice can wait until tomorrow.

James is right; it has been a while.

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**AN: ****So what do you think of James? Let me know what you think so far.**


	5. Sense of Duty

**AN: I wanted to get this chapter out due to the most recent events of Finding Relief.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**BTW – QueenBeta Cullen818 is the best beta ever and I am so lucky to have her.**

**I do not own twilight or any of the characters**

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_"__**A sense of duty is useful in work, but offensive in personal relations. People wish to be liked, not be endured with patient resignation" – Bertrand Russell**_

**Chapter 5**

"Are you going to work today bro?" James asks as he handles the game controller with precision.

I am in the middle of stuffing a handful of popcorn in my face, effectively palming my controller with one hand. So I have to wait until I can swallow. "No." I think briefly of showing up just to see if the girl comes back, but then I realize that is never going to happen, and the best thing for me to do is to forget that night ever happened.

_As if._

I glance at the clock and take note that we have been battling for about six hours. _Fuck_! No wonder my stomach is growling. "I am going to order some pizza's from Primo's."

"Sweet." James is twisting and turning his body in an extra effort to maneuver the characters around the seventy-two inch plasma television.

"Don't have them deliver though, have Jessica go pick them up."

"James…" I stop so I can make a concerted attempt not to get killed by a grenade that flies into my bunker. "You gotta stop fucking with Jessica's mind."

He glances at me before his attention turns back to the TV. "Tell me how I am fucking with her. We are friends, aren't we? She _is_ allowed to come over."

"Whatever man. You know she wants you. It is fucked up how every time she starts to pull away from you, you reel her back in."

James pauses the game. Shit. He's pissed. "Look dickwad…Jessica knows me and her are just friends, I know that me and her are just friends. So if you can't fucking understand that shit, mind your own goddamn business."

_Touchy. Touchy._

"Okay. Damn." I order pizzas and then call Jessica to see if she wants to pick them up. She says that she will be over in about half an hour with pizza in tow. She sounds a little too excited about it in my opinion. James can say whatever the fuck he wants, but Jessica desires more than friendship from him. Whether James really realizes that or not is a mystery. One that I had no intention of solving.

"What is going on with Carrie? Haven't seen her around the last couple of weeks." I say and he looks at me with disgust.

"That fucking skank? Man, I stopped seeing her last week." He shoves a mouthful of popcorn in his face. After he finishes chewing, he fills me in. "I went over there last week and she had just got finished pulling a needle out of her arm and was fucking that loser drug dealer of hers, Laurent."

It is kinda funny that James expects monogamy from his girlfriends.

He has to pause the game when Bruiser jumps on his lap. "Goddammit. This damn cat of yours thinks I am a fucking bed." I chuckle as I watch Bruiser settle into a comfortable position on his lap while James watches on with annoyance. He throws down the controller irritably and says, "Well, I guess it is a perfect time to take a break."

He then proceeds to bury his hand in the little guy's hair massaging him until we can both hear Bruiser purr loudly.

Jessica arrives right on time. Pizza in hand. James completely ignores her and delves into the food without so much as thanks.

Jessica politely makes conversation with me as James is engrossed in a Charles Bronson Kung-Fu flick that he has probably watched a hundred times. When she tries to get up from her spot next to him on the sofa he asks, "Where are you going?"

"I was thinking about leaving since you seemed to be too busy for me." She answers.

"Don't leave." Was his simple reply. When she sat back down he put his arm around her and she buried her head in his chest.

Yeah, like I said…

XXXXX

It has been a week, and the girl is still on my mind. I think about her less often though. So there's progress. I only think about her approximately once an hour, and that is a vast improvement.

I hang out at the "post" waiting for one of my regulars. The "post" is our chosen pick up site. We chose it because this particular street is often littered with people. There is nothing suspicious about hanging out around here, and the few cops that were on patrol never pester us.

I am waiting for the tall blond…don't know her name…don't want to.

I only know two of my client's names. Leah and Victoria. The only reason I know either of their names is that Leah can't shut her damn mouth and she offers way too much information about herself. I knew her whole life story the first time we conducted business. Victoria is some type of manager or something. She often receives calls from her employees or "incompetent assholes" as she affectionately refers to them as. She answers the phone grunting her name.

I have no idea what my other regular's names are. They don't say much and I prefer it that way. They come and get what they want, and then they schedule their next meeting.

The only thing I need to know is what they like. The tall blonde's usual vice is straight up sex, but once in a while she tends to like it up the ass. I really hope that is the plan for tonight. I don't want to have to look at her, or worse, have her look at me. My mood is sour tonight and there is only one thing that I know of that can make me better…_Goddammit._

I have to see Victoria tomorrow and I don't know what to expect. She may not show up, seeing as I completely stood her up last week. I am still trying to figure out which excuse will work best on her. I guess it is going to be a spur of the moment decision, based on her frame of mind at the time.

I am looking for a Saab 9.3, but what I would rather be looking for is an Infiniti G-37, _her_ car. I close my eyes, blocking the thought. It must be that time of the hour.

When I open my eyes I see a blue Saab 9.3. Life goes on.

I jump in the car and give her my best smirk. The smirk that I know makes this particular tall blond blush. I know that because it is my job to know.

If there is one thing that I am good at, it's this job.

XXXXX

There she is, and, oh boy, does she look pissed.

_Good. _

I decided last night that I am going to be honest with Victoria about why I wasn't around last week. It isn't because I feel the need to be honest. I couldn't give a shit about that. No, I want to be honest because I _want_ the reaction…fuck, I _need_ the reaction that I am going to get out of her.

I have been thinking too much of the girl. I dreamed about her at night, I dreamed about her in the middle of the day. Stupid things like eating breakfast with her in the morning, watching TV with her head in my lap, fuck, some of the simplest household chores would spark some of the most amazing fantasies. Clearing off the table after dinner turned into me eating her for dessert on the kitchen table. I should have just broken that damn rule and tasted that pussy while I had a chance.

I honestly don't even know if it is the girl anymore or if it is just the _idea_ of the girl. The idea of having things that I know are not possible. A normal life. Love. I snort. Victoria will push those thoughts right out of my head. She will put me back in my place.

When I enter her car, I collect the money from her and after silence for the first two minutes of the ride she begins her tirade. "Where the fuck were you last week? You think I got all fucking night to come out here and look for your sorry ass. You make an appointment with me - you better be here for it. Now tell me what was so goddamn important that you didn't show up?"

I sigh. Here we go. I don't really want to do this. I am not looking forward to the jealousy, but I know I have to.

For my sanity.

"I met a new client. She wanted me, so I had to go." I don't look at her. She says nothing.

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe she didn't mind.

Why should she care anyway? I am a dime a dozen. Yeah, I am fucking awesome at what I do, but she can easily get everything she is getting from me from someone else, for free even.

We make it up to my room in silence but that changes as soon as I shut the door. She is quiet when she decides to speak, like she is trying to maintain some semblance of control. She comes to me and puts her arm around my neck and then her hand grips painfully in my hair.

_And I fucking love it. Make me forget you bitch. Tell me who I am._

I smirk and uphold my cool façade.

"On Friday nights, my dear, you are mine. I own you. Don't you ever, ever forget that again. Now get undressed, I don't fucking have all night." She releases my hair so that I can obey.

As Victoria pounds into me I try to soak up her body with my eyes. Her physique has always been a huge turn-on for me…but today I am unimpressed.

Her long, thick red hair which I used to think was beautiful now seems dull. Her flashing green eyes looking over my body hungrily used to make me high with anticipation but now seem to make me nauseated.

Her lips are too thin, her skin had tons of freckles that I never noticed before, her bouncing tits are just…okay, the nipples too pale, and her red haired pussy - I no longer found intriguing.

God, her perfume that she is wearing no longer intoxicated me, instead it made my choke. Her skin tastes sour and stale. The aftertaste lingers on my lips long after I place a chaste kiss on her shoulder.

I casually bring my hand up to my mouth and rub it across my lips as I lick it. I do it to get rid of the taste on my lips, but I press my wet fingers into her swollen clit massaging it so that she will not be suspicious of my actions.

She notices my discontent and lack of response to her usual success. The sex becomes angry and rough. There is pain involved and I know that I will be sore tomorrow. Finally my baser instincts take over, and I cum. She falls on top of me in both tiredness and exasperation. I am just as frustrated as she is. I usually enjoy her…somewhat.

As we are getting dressed, Victoria makes polite conversation. "What the fuck was with you tonight? Whatever it is you have going on…get the fuck over it. When you are here with me – you are to only think about me. I shouldn't have to remind you how to do your goddamn job."

She's right. This is my job and she is one of my best customers. I have got to get my head out of the clouds. Once I collect that money it is my duty to make her feel special and to fulfill her desires. I failed tonight.

_This cannot happen again._

I go over to her and do something I never have done to her. I weave my hands through her thick hair and touch my lips to her forehead. "You're right. I have had some insignificant things on my mind and I promise that they will be gone next time."

I only hope I can get myself to believe that.

She seems satisfied with my statement and my small intimacy. She puts her arms around me. "I can give you more than this." She whispers. Thankfully, she doesn't wait for a response because I have no fucking clue what I can say to that.

When she leaves I get in the shower. I press my head against the cool tile and breathe in and out in deep gusts.

_My life is no different than before. It hasn't changed. One night can't change me. I am stronger than this._

After that night with Victoria I willed myself to not think about her again. And I didn't…most of the time. Each week the memories faded. The touches were weak recollections, the visions were foggy, the emotions vague and in descript. I don't remember what the big deal was anymore.

She is just another average girl that I had an average fuck with. Nothing more.

XXXXX

I am headed to Sharky's Sports Bar to celebrate James Twenty-fifth birthday. When I find him seated at the bar he already has a shot in front of him and one at the empty seat next to him.

I wonder if he has already picked up an unsuspecting girl, it never took James long to charm any girl out of their pants. James has sex for money and for free. I won't give it up unless I am paid for it.

I come up behind him and put him in a friendly headlock. That is when I get an elbow to the gut. I let out a yelp and he turns around instantly steadying me so I don't keel over.

"Jazz man, what are ya doing? What a fucking idiot. What'd you expect me to do? You just come up behind me and put me in headlock?" He looks worried.

James and I had gotten into a few fistfights when we were younger. Our testosterone eventually getting the better of us, making us forget momentarily about our longstanding friendship. We quit sparring after James tackled me down a narrow flight of stairs and each of us broke one of our legs.

My body finally allows air to begin flowing through it again. "Goddamn, defensive much?"

He slaps me on the back and chuckles. "Got you a drink, bro."

"I thought that was for someone else."

"No man, you'd think I would share my first birthday drink with just anybody? What do ya take me for?" He picks up his glass and holds it in the air. I do the same.

"Happy birthday…and many more." I say.

"Well, not too many more. I don't want to be old like my dad." We both chuckle and down our shots.

After a few more shots, Jessica joins us. She just finished up with one of her regulars. "Man, that Embry is a freak in bed. No wonder Leah comes to see you."

"I doubt that is the only reason that she comes to see me." I predict with a laugh.

"Hey, they got a new place down the street. You guy's want to check it out? I hear they have pool tables, table hockey and Foosball." Jessica exclaims excitedly.

We agree and James and I head out of the bar to stand in the balmy night air while we wait for Jessica to finish using the restroom.

"I am so going to kick your ass in Foosball, my friend." I challenge, starting to feel the effects of the numerous shots I just consumed.

James laughs heartily, and he says something but I don't hear it. I am staring at her car. HER fucking car. Holy shit.

_She came back for me._

"James…Can I meet you there? Please." I struggle to get the words out of my constricted throat.

He looks in the direction of her car. "About an hour or two then?" He asks nonchalantly.

"Yeah. Thanks man." I answer, as I start toward her vehicle.

_She came back for me._

I move faster toward her car, but then she catches me by surprise when she puts her car in gear and takes off like a bat out of hell.

_What the fuck just happened?_ I watch her taillights disappear in the distance.

I eventually turn back around looking at anyone and anything besides James. I definitely do not need to be fucked with about this.

When I finally make my way back to him, like the fucking friend he can be when he chose to - he says nothing.

The other bar is within walking distance. When we arrive James finds us an open pool table and goes up to the bar to grab us all beers.

Jessica, James and I play pool for about an hour and James can see I am not into it. I give up the charade. "James, sorry brother, I know it is your birthday, but I just don't feel good."

"Yeah, go home bud. Get some rest." He says as he pats me on the shoulder. His eyes are sympathetic. He leans in and he whispers, "It's only one girl. And one that, apparently, does not deserve you."

I nod my head, unwilling to speak.

XXXXX

The phone ringing wakes me up. I wait for James to pick it up, but he doesn't. What the hell?

I look at the clock at is three in the morning. You have got to be kidding me. That boy better not be in jail again.

"Hello?" I speak into the phone groggily.

"Fuck! Finally Jasper. I have been trying your cell phone for the last hour." It is Jessica.

"It ran out of power, I have it on the charger, but it isn't turned on. What the hell is going on?" I am wide awake now.

"It James…" she whispers. "He's in the hospital. A couple of guys beat him up pretty bad."

Dammit it all, why the fuck did I leave him tonight?

I can hear the tears in her voice. "Hurry up, Jazz. He is pretty messed up."

It is his birthday for Christ sakes.

_What kind of fucking friend am I?_

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**AN: Now, I worked really hard to get this out so you could have a little taste of Victoria's "relationship" with Jazz so please let me know what you think.**


	6. Hospitals and So Called Family

**AN: I am sorry this chapter took so long, I really had planned on getting it out earlier but I was working on the second chapter of **_**Burnt Marshmallows**_**, my E/J slashy fic. That took much longer than expected. I just posted that chapter yesterday so please go check it out and let me know what you think.**

**I will try to post this story once a week until I can get a little ahead and then I can go back to possibly twice a week.**

**QueenBeta Cullen818 rocks!**

**I don't own twilight or any of its characters.**

**Thanks for waiting! Parts of this chapter can be found in Finding Relief – chapter 9… **

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**"**_**Looking out of a hospital window is different from looking out of any other. Somehow you do not see outside" – Carol Matthau**_

**Chapter 6**

The ride to the hospital was one of self-recrimination. I constantly berated myself on how much of a loser friend I am. What the fuck possessed me to leave James tonight? Just because I was being a little bitch about the girl running off on me, didn't mean that I had to leave my best friend on his goddamn birthday.

For a moment I considered blaming this on her…for leaving me in the middle of the road with my tongue fucking hanging out, but how could I blame her when I would have turned and ran from me too?

Goddamn! Every life I touch turns to shit. Not that James had a perfect life before he met me.

What the hell did he do to get into _this_ mess? Thinking that James is completely innocent in all this is just ludicrous.

James can be a shit talker, especially when he's wasted, and he never backs down from a fight, even if he is out-numbered.

When I arrive at the hospital I run in and find the Emergency Room. He had just been transferred to a room, so I make my way up to the fourth floor. As I approach the room number that I was given from the front desk I see Jessica approaching from the other direction with a couple of bottled waters. She looks like a mess, her hair is wild and tangled, her makeup is smeared under her eyes. What the fuck? Was it too much to ask for a life that didn't consist of abnormal amounts of pandemonium on a regular fucking basis?

Instead of moving into James' room I meet Jessica by the door, and divert as I pull her inside one of the waiting areas.

"What the hell happened tonight, Jessica? For fucksakes, can I leave you two without chaos ensuing?"

Her lips immediately start to tremble, and I quickly pull her into a hug. This isn't her fault. She could not have stopped James, had she wanted too. I am the only one that could have stopped him if his heart had been set on fighting.

"I'm sorry. I am not blaming you. Is he okay? What's the damage?"

Silent tears fall from her eyes as she explains that a guy at the bar recognized her and James from the street and propositioned James for some quick head in his truck. James was interested so he took off with the guy. I guess there had been some of his buddies waiting outside and they jumped him. He had two broken ribs and his face was busted up, but other than that there was no serious, life threatening injuries sustained.

_Thank fucking God. _James is the only constant person in my life. He may be fucked up, like me, but we needed each other.

When I enter James' room, he has an IV that is slowly medicating him into a slumber. Both of his swollen eyes struggle to open as he hears me enter.

_Fuckin' A. He looks horrible._

I sit by his side and grab onto his hand. I didn't care if it looked fucked up, he was my fucking brother…my only family. "James, what the hell happened? You couldn't take off one fucking night?"

He groans and then mumbles something that I can't understand. "What?" I whisper. I scoot closer.

I finally heard his muffled plea. He wants to go home. I know that James has no tolerance for hospitals, and I know his recovery would be hindered if he is not in his own element. With his dad's money we can get him the best care at home.

"I'll talk to your dad. Where is he?" He just shakes his head. I turn to look at Jessica.

"I couldn't reach him." She says quietly, but I catch the betrayal in her eyes.

_That. Fucking. Bastard._

"James, I'll be right back." He squeezes my hand tighter, not wanting me to leave his side. "Just a minute, okay?"

I bust out of the room, feeling like a fight myself, and head for an area that I am allowed to use my cell phone. I call a number that I have just for emergencies. If this isn't a goddamn emergency than I don't know what is. "Mr. Hunter?" I bark out when the line is picked up.

"Jasper. How are you doin' boy?" He says in his tough, weathered voice. I don't know exactly what James' dad actually does for a living; I really don't think James even knows. I just know that he is one wealthy fucker, and when he wants something done, it fucking happens.

I had to bite my tongue in order to not spew the litany of obscenities that came forth in my mind. At this moment I need to get what I want out of this dickhead and calling him out on his fucking lack of parenting skills isn't going to help James any.

So, I say a quick prayer that my filter will stay align with my quest and I mutter, "uh sir, I am fine. Um, I am sure that Jessica filled you in on what happened to James last night. James doesn't want to stay in the hospital, so I think that it would be in everybody's best interest to get him homecare. Umm, what do you think?"

I have never really had to ever ask James' dad for anything, and I have to admit it is rather intimidating. Now, I understand why James is always wired after he has to ask his dad for something, or to get us out of some type of a mess. The adrenaline coursing through my veins right now is sending my body into jitters. I pace rapidly to control my rampaging nerves.

"Have the boys responsible been charged yet?" Mr. Hunter asks.

"Umm…from what Jessica told me, the police department brought in photos, and James identified them all." There is complete silence.

"Good. Good." I hear him say more to himself than to me.

"About the homecare…" I stop mid sentence when I find that I am speaking to dial tone. _The fucker hung up._ Knowing that this is somehow the way those two communicate I try not to get offended. I go back into James' room, waiting to see if his dad would be handling mine…well, James' request.

It takes about twenty minutes before a couple of big dudes come in with a gurney. They load James on it, and deposit him in an ambulance that is taken directly to the house.

James is set up on his king sized bed. He has a comfortable recliner in his room, as well as a desk, that can be used by the nurse. She makes sure his IV is steadily dripping, sending the potent medication through his vein, allowing him to sleep through the pain of freshly broken bones.

"He'll be out for a while now, y'all can get some sleep." The nurse informs.

I let her know which room I will be in, as well as where the bathroom and kitchen is. Jessica crashes in one of the guest rooms, and I stumble into my own bed, fully clothed.

I wake up mid-morning, and immediately check the status and comfort of James. He is still sleeping soundly and the nurse is working on some kind of needlework in the recliner.

"How is he doing? Any problems?" I whisper, as to not wake him up. I walk over to his bedside and stare at him. A shiver runs through me and I turn to the nurse.

"Oh, he has been as perfect as a peach. That boy likes to talk in his sleep. You must be Jasper." She says with a smirk on her face.

"Umm, yeah. Anything interesting?" This nurse doesn't need to be aware of any of our past exploits. Some of which we can still possibly be charged for.

"Naw, he just complained that you ate all the pizza and drank all the beer…again, not leaving anything for him. Now, you don't seem like they type of fella that would do that." She says seductively.

Aww, shit. I know when I am being hit on and, shit I need to get the hell out of here.

Choosing not to respond to her wordplay I ask, "Speaking of food, we don't have much around. So I am going to be heading to the store. Will he be out for a while?"

She seems disappointed that I either did not catch on to her flirting, or that I am ignoring it. "He won't be awake for quite some time."

"I should only be out for another couple of hours or so."

I leave her with my cell phone number, and just reach the door when Jessica steps in my way.

"Where are you going?"

"To get some food. Are you planning on sticking around a while?"

"I can stay until around four, I'll make dinner for you guys, and then I gotta head to my parents for our monthly family supper." She says the last part while rolling her eyes.

"That's fine. I'll be home tonight."

She decides to come with me so she can find something to make for us for dinner. When we are walking out of the store I glance across the street. I swear that my eyes are playing tricks on me, and that I don't see _the girl_ walking rapidly down the street. I watch her as she makes her way passed a couple of the businesses. She grabs the handle to a restaurant and freezes.

She turns her head around quickly and our eyes meet and hold for what seems like hours. I am jolted out of my stare as I see Jessica in my peripheral looking at me with annoyance.

Nope. I am not going through this right now. She had her fucking chance last night. I walk past Jessica to the car, and load the groceries in the truck.

My body is confused by the mixed signals that it is getting from my brain and heart. My heart is telling me to go to her, my brain telling me to get the fuck out of there…NOW. My body temporarily shuts down, not knowing which part of my anatomy to listen to.

Get in the car, or go talk to her.

_Will she run again? Why should I give her the chance? How can this possibly end in a good way?_

Finally the demands of my brain override the desires of my heart, and I get in my vehicle.

"What is wrong with you? You look like you saw a ghost." Jessica asks. I just shake my head slowly, unable to speak.

I pull out and I am making my way down the street. I feel like my heart is pouting, and my brain is retaliating by making me numb. It won't allow me to think or feel. I mechanically make my way to the first intersection, and stop for the red light. My heart starts debating louder…still not giving up on the possibility of going back. _Did you see how beautiful she looks? Didn't it look like she was sorry?_ My heart demands.

My brain fights back, using it's every cell to force those questions out of my head. It took fucking forever but I make it to the second red light. My heart screams…_didn't you see how she was looking at you? She wants to apologize._

_FUCK!_ I pull over to the side of the road, gasping for breath, no longer to physically hide my inner turmoil. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the struggle going on in my body plays out on my face.

_What the fuck is this girl doing to me? This has to stop now._

I glimpse at Jessica, her eyes are wide and her mouth is open. "Jazz…are you alright?"

"Jess, I saw someone back there I need to have a word with. Do you mind staying in the car? It will only take a few minutes."

"Yeah, no problem." She watches me intently as I make my way back to the restaurant. I get out without saying a word to her, and make my way to the girl that unknowingly has caused so much havoc since she came into my life.

I walk into the restaurant and find her almost immediately. It looks like she just sat down with her lunch.

_Be strong._

"So what brings you back to this area?" I hiss. My eyes can't help but wander over every inch of her that I can see over the table. _Fucking gorgeous_.

"I had some business over in this area." I can tell by the way her eyes won't meet mine that she is lying. What is she doing here then? What was she doing here last night? Fuck. Am I wrong…am I all fucking wrong? Is this feeling all one-sided? The pain that shoots through my chest is swift and intense.

"Did you have business in this area at about eleven last night, too?" I ask anyway, hoping that I am just not that naive.

"Yes." She says quietly. I try to study her, but I am not a fucking mind reader. She is either telling the truth or she is playing with me. Either way, I lose. I do the only thing that there is left. I turn myself away from this girl, and walk out of her life for good. I only get a few feet before she stops me.

"Wait." Like a fool I turn around. Like a small puppy begging for attention. How much more pathetic can I be?

"I came to see you." She admits.

Well, it looks like she wants to play games with me. Sorry, I am just not up for it. I can't win this, and I just can't let her beat me down. I know in my heart I wouldn't get over it. It would be stored away with all of the other disappointments in my life. I chuckle at that thought, finding no humor in it whatsoever.

I walk swiftly out the door. Why is she doing this? Why is she toying with a motherfucking whore for christsakes? Why can't she just leave me alone?

I decide to go back in and demand an answer to that question. She shocks me for a moment when I turn around and bump into her. I hadn't realized that she was following.

Instead of asking her all of the many questions that were running though my mind, I can only hear her last words echo through my body: _I came to see you._

"Did you come to see me like you came to see me last night? Because I can go without being left in the middle of the fucking street again." I say bitterly.

She winces. "I am sorry about last night. That is not how I wanted things to go, I just panicked…please." She stretches her hand out toward me, and it takes everything in my power not to grab her hand and pull her to me, drag her to my apartment and fuck the shit out of her.

I watch her eyes wander briefly away when I don't respond to her right away. The internal battle begins again, but there is just no fight left in me. I don't have a choice…I never did…not where this girl is concerned. I will let her take me for the ride of my life…until she is ready to be done with me. When she is finished, I will find a way to pick up the pieces and move on with my meaningless life, but I have decided I will let her have her way with me until then and just take what she has to offer.

"Are…are you working?" she stammers, not looking at me.

_Say no, goddammit_. My brain tries one more time. I know this my last chance to save what remains of my sanity…and it is entirely futile.

Her chocolate eyes swim with her silent pleas.

"No, not until tonight." I walk away without a backward glance.

_I always felt that sanity was highly overrated._

XXXXX

"Keep the fuck away from me!"

I hear the screaming as soon as I walk into the house. I run into James room to find the nurse holding a syringe in her hand.

"James, what the fuck is going on?" I can see his busted lip has reopened due to his outburst. I grab a Kleenex and go to the bed to tend to it. "Answer." I say, as I hold the Kleenex to his mouth.

He mumbles and the only thing I can understand is the word "drugs". I know what this is about. "James, you need the pain killers." I lower my voice. "This isn't an experiment. This isn't for fun James. You're going to be in a lot of pain if you don't let her do her job."

When he looks at me with a mixture of pain and indecision in his eyes I continue. "James…I know you promised not to do them again, if I didn't, but this isn't the same thing, bro…at all." I can see that he is warring with himself.

"Just for today and maybe tomorrow. Okay?"

Finally, he gives the nurse a scathing look, but allows her to approach his IV, where she administers the sedative. I sit there for several moments and watch the drug take its affect as his eyes roll back in his head as he fights to stay coherent.

It takes just a few more minutes before he cannot fight it any longer and falls into a deep slumber. I remove the tissue from his mouth and inspect the open wound. It doesn't look like he did too much damage with his rant.

I make my way to my bedroom intending on getting a nap in. My phone buzzes signaling that I have a text message. I glance at the phone, "yeah, right," I mumble, and toss it on the nightstand next to my bed.

Rose, that deprecating bitch. The only so-called family that I have left. Some sister she is. _No, thanks._

I stopped communicating with Rosalie about five years ago. For some reason she has it in her little debutante head that she wants to be my sister again. Ever since my mom and dad passed away a year ago, in a car accident, Rosalie has decided that we need to stick together. _Fat fucking chance_. She had decimated any relationship that we had ten years ago, when I needed her more than anything. I can barely be civil to her now.

_Paybacks are a bitch baby._

I ignore her at every opportunity, not bothering to hide my loathing for her when she decides to grace me with her presence. She tries calling me at least twice a week, but texting is her usual MO. Whatever the fuck she wants can wait, I need some serious sleep.

Jessica is in with James so I strip down to my boxers and bury myself in my blankets, for some much needed rest. As hard as I try I can't force myself to sleep.

_I am going to see her tonight. Finally._

I shouldn't.

_Oh fuck, I can't._ Jessica can't stay with James…she has a family dinner. I cannot, and will not leave him again, even if he does have a nurse to take care of him.

I am resigned…it is better this way anyway, right? Surely, when I don't show up, she will never come back around again. My hand drifts to rub the aching that I suddenly feel consume my chest.

I eventually fall asleep, but it is a fitful sleep. I see a young girl with a broken body then the dream suddenly goes into a tailspin, does a one-eighty, and then is replaced with visions of pleading chocolate brown eyes.

XXXXX

I am reading the consumers report on a Lexus Hybrid to James. He has been looking at getting one of those since they came out and I thought I would pull up some info to share with him tonight. I try not to, but I automatically keep glancing down at my watch. It is six o'clock. She will be there any time. She had no idea when I usually started. How long will she wait? For her sake, I hope she didn't wait long. I sigh.

"Do you have somewhere you have to be Jazz?" He says irritably.

"No man, I was just wondering if it is close to dinner. I am fucking starved." I rub my belly, embellishing my lie, for believability.

James just looks at me, shaking his head in disgust, and I am wondering when the fuck I became so easy to read. I know that I am being unfair to my capability of being untruthful. James had an undue advantage. For some reason, to him, I have always been an open book.

"You're not going to go?" He asks with unreadable eyes.

"Where?" I hedge.

"I talked to Jessica today and she told me what happened. She had the window down when you had a convo with some girl." He says quietly, looking down at his hands.

"Look. I forgot that Jessica had an engagement tonight. I am not going."

"Go," is all he says.

"No." I retort.

"Well, I don't want you around. You're boring me. Go away." He says dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

"Fuck you asshole. I am not going anywhere."

"Really?" He questions, as if he is ready to go at it. Goddammit…never backs down…ever.

The doorbell interrupts our argument. I give him a just-wait-until-I-fucking-get-back-here look.

I open the door angrily and it doesn't help my mood when Rosalie is standing there tapping her foot like I am fucking inconveniencing her. Well, fuck that. I shut the door in her face, but Rosalie is a bit of a brute. She has more strength than an average man, but where she packs it you couldn't guess. I suppose, without studying her to intently that she has a very athletic body, I wouldn't know how she came about it since I have no idea what she has been doing with her life the last five years. She could be married and have five kids and I would never know. I assume she doesn't since I have noticed that she doesn't wear a ring on the appropriate finger, indicating she found some sucker to marry her.

She forces her way in, and looks around at our filthy house. Usually, between James and I we are pretty clean. Of course, it has to look like this the day that Rosalie decides to stop by for a visit.

"Do you ever clean this place? How can you live like this?" She starts in on me like she always does. This must be part of her plan to ingratiate herself in my life again. _Mission failed._ I guess she is better at arm wrestling than planning strategies to win over her long lost brother.

Oh, well, nobody's perfect. Not even Rosalie, but don't fucking tell her that.

"Jazzzzz…did you order pizza? I don't think I can eat that." James yells from his bed.

"What is wrong with him?" Rosalie asks.

I sigh. "Nothing Rosie…mind your own fucking business, and stay out of my shit."

She ignores me and walks into James bedroom. I hear her gasp when she sees him. I slowly walk in after her. She is looking at the medical chart that she had grabbed away from the nurse.

She already had it in her hand when I got there, but I know that Rosalie took it without permission by the look of pure indignation on the nurse's face.

"Who is this?" The nurse glares at me. _Take it out on me_. _Why not?_

James laughs the best that he can without splitting his lip back open. "Rosie, come sit and talk to me. I've missed you." The fucker winks at me.

Rosalie barely tolerates James, but she plants herself on the edge of James bed and after inspecting his face thoroughly looks up at me with defiance. _Great._

I finally decide to answer James question. "No, I did not order pizza. I think that Jessica made some homemade chili."

"Chili? He can't fucking eat chili! My God!" Rosalie says in exasperation, the nurse vehemently nodding her head in agreement.

"I'll make you something." Since when did the beauty queen become a fucking caregiver?

James gives me a devilish grin. "Well, Jazz, now that you have your sister watching after me, you can go run that uh…errand."

Rosalie knows exactly what I am currently "doing for a living", but I don't feel like arguing about it with her tonight. She doesn't seem to catch on to James innuendo, or at least, she doesn't let on to it.

"Jazz, if you have an errand just go out and do it. I can stay until you get back." She says as she shrugs her shoulders.

"No."

"Why not? You don't trust me? You think I will put a pillow over his head while he sleeps, for turning my little brother into a whore?" We all turn when we hear the gasp from the nurse, none of us remembering that she was even in the room by this point.

"No, it is just that I will be gone for a couple of hours." I respond, still watching the nurse.

"Jasper, I came to visit. If you would have read my message you would have known that. I planned on staying for a while anyway." Oh god. A couple of hours with Rosalie has me visibly cringing. James notices and snickers. Rosalie moves past me to raid our kitchen for a suitable meal for James.

James gives me a shit-eating grin. "Have fun and…oh, by the way…I win."

He is laid up with broken ribs, and a broken face, he is in an almost constant morphine induced haze, and I still can't manage to beat him in verbal combat.

He is the master, I have to grudgingly admit.

I am still debating though, not ready to give up that easily when I hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen along with a string of expletives.

"See ya." I couldn't get to my fucking keys fast enough.

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**AN: Well, Jasper was really affected by Bella leaving him in the dust, but we knew Jasper was going to give her a second chance. No lemons this time but we know what is coming up next- Chapter 10 of Finding Relief – we will find out how Jasper felt when he lost control with Bella for the first time. **

**Please review and let me know what you thought of the chapter and don't forget to read Burnt Marshmallows, if you don't mind that kinda stuff. Thanks for all of your support.**


	7. Indifference Fail

**AN: Thanks to everyone for reading I really appreciate all of your comments. I also want to thank everyone that read my latest chapter of Burnt Marshmallows.**

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_"__**Indifference is the strongest force in the universe. It makes everything it touches meaningless. Love and hate don't stand a chance against it." – Joan Vinge**_

**Chapter 7 **

I am so fucking nervous, my hands are shaking and I can't seem to stop them. I have already been by the apartment to make sure that it is clean and to drop off my dinner. I am now standing at the post waiting for the girl to show up, fervently praying that she hadn't already come and gone.

Thankfully, Garrett and Sebastian, a couple of my band mates are in the area checking out a local band at one of the smaller bars. It's the kind of dive we usually perform in…when we all have the time to do actually do a gig.

It's not that we don't have talent, but life just gets in the way. It was easier when we started the band six years ago, but now Marcus and Sebastian are married with kids to support. Garrett is single, but he also has kids. With everyone's schedules it is very hard to meet for practice. But not wanting to let go of that small part of our youth, we manage to get together once a week for practice, and what not.

All the guys know what I do with my spare time. They don't judge me; they have been around long enough to know that this is just another phase James and I are going through.

"Man Jazz, do you normally get this worked up before you see a girl? Damn. You're all shaking and shit." Garrett says while smirking. Sebastian chuckles at his observation.

"No, it's just this girl…she's got me in a fucking tizzy." I shiver, as I remember just what she does to me.

"Is she "The One?" Sebastian pokes fun at me.

"Shut up, asshole." It is just then that I spot her car. "Don't you guys have somewhere to be?"

"And miss this fucking show…I think not. I am a married man; with two young kids…this is the closest I am going to get to any action for at least another month." Sebastian says.

Garrett just looks at him like he has lost his mind. "A month. Fuck man, I am never getting married."

"Yeah, just keep on spreading your seed all over the city because we need some more of your bastards running around." They playfully continue there banter in a non-threatening way. We have no filter around each other, and it doesn't seem to bother any of us.

I am barely paying attention though as she sits in her car and waits for me to come to her. Does she really think I am falling for that shit again? Uh-uh. If she wants it, she's going to have to come closer.

She finally figures that out, and moves her car directly in front of us. "I'll see you guys around." I say in parting.

"Wait man. Aren't you going to make her come out? I wanna check her out. Please…" Sebastian begs shamelessly.

"Shit man, your life is fucked, isn't it?" I say with a smirk.

_Why not?_ She embarrassed the hell out of me yesterday. She deserves this, although, I quicly send up another prayer that she won't say "fuck it" and take off again, not wanting to put up with my bullshit. The idea that she will run off again almost makes me run to her car, but then I see her car door open, so I force my posture to become casual and seemingly unaffected by her arrival. Little did she know how affected I really am. She would turn and run if she knew.

She literally stomps over to me, with a look of pure irritation, and grabs my still shaking hand. She turns it over and slaps money into my palm.

"Just get in the fucking car already." She pouts.

Garrett and Sebastian crack up. I pocket my wages quickly, and turn to give them a wave.

When I get in the car I decide to tease her a bit because her little attitude she displayed out there was just too fucking cute. "Now don't be like that darlin'." I say with a grin.

She hesitates, but then turns to me with the sexiest smile. My dick twitches. _How the fuck does she do that?_

I know I am just mere minutes away from being inside her…but I find myself trying to come up with a way to postpone it. I'm not ready to have this over so quickly. That fact is that I am interested in her and I want to know more about her. It doesn't matter how unattainable she is.

Questions that frequented my mind in the last month come rushing to the surface. _What has she been doing? Has she thought about me as much as I have thought about her? Did she regret what we did? She must not feel too badly about it if she is back…right?_

Panic sets in because I know that when we get up to that room, there will be no talking. It will be all business. We will be on sensory overload, and I usually prefer it that way - no small talk or awkward conversations– but not with her…at least, not this time. I feel like I _need_ to know _everything_ about her.

Before I realize what I am saying, I blurt out, "I hate to do this to you but we may have a minor issue." I lie, unabashedly. _Whatever it takes._

"What?" She replies, looking perplexed.

"Well as you know, I just started working when you picked me up…"

She lifts her brows slightly waiting for my untruthful words, "Yes?" She becomes impatient.

"Well, James might not be, uh, finished yet." I should be so ashamed, but if I get what I want it will be worth it.

_Fuck! This is so messed up!_

"OK?"

"Do you mind if I run up there first and see if they're still there?" I figure that will give me enough time to grab the lasagna that I made yesterday for lunch. I planned on eating after she left, but her stomach has not stopped grumbling since I got in the car.

"God no, please go ahead." She says sounding horrified. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. She is so expressive. "They'd be in his room, darlin', you wouldn't see anything."

"Well than how are you going to…evaluate the situation?" She is so fucking adorably uncomfortable with this subject, but regrettably, from past experience I am able to form an accurate response to her question.

"By sound." I grimace slightly as memories assault me.

Unfortunately, I have had the displeasure of being in the next room and, when we attended Purdue, sometimes in the same room, during some of James' screwing sessions.

I know all of his sounds - from the hideous beginning all the way to the excruciating end. He very rarely ever deviated from his pattern of audible checkpoints. It was like a roadmap to his orgasm.

Thankfully she didn't want me to expand on my simple answer. She was actually quite ready to change the subject. "So how many times a night can you...do...this?"

I let out a sharp bark of laughter at her almost constant inquisitiveness. "Well, there's my curious monkey."

She pulls up to the front door of the apartment building and I take that opportunity to quickly get out of the car to avoid the question she had just asked. I really don't want to discuss the other women. I want to forget while I am with her. Doesn't she want that too?

I run up to the apartment and grab my lasagna out of the fridge and warm it in the microwave. I put a couple Pepsi's, paper towels and forks in a bag.

I start to pace. _What the fuck am I doing?_ Lying, so I can spend a few extra minutes with her. I am being presumptuous, assuming she will even want to eat anything I bring to her. God, she is here to fuck, not to eat out of a Tupperware dish. I am probably wasting her time, but fucking damn, I can't help it. I just want five minutes. Five fucking minutes before my mind is consumed with her naked body, sweating and writhing underneath me. The images make me groan out loud, and I dig my palms into my eyes.

The dish is finished being warmed and I run it out to the car. "They should only be a few more minutes."

I sigh inwardly. I wish I could be truthful…tell her that I just want to talk to her for a few minutes before we go at it. Learn a little more before I have to fuck her, and then give her up. I feel badly for deceiving her…but only for a moment - because once I look at her again…she looks…happy, my heart does a flip.

_Maybe_, just maybe she doesn't mind that she's being detained.

Dammit, it is just stuff like that, her looking all happy and shit, that makes me believe that I could have a real chance with her. That I can have someone like her…even if I don't deserve it.

"Watcha got there?" She asks, as she eyes the bag. I take my dish out, and offer some to her. She blushes, embarrassed that I had obviously heard the evidence of her hunger, but she takes a bite without hesitation, and when I watch it rolling around in her mouth my insides shake. I want to know what if felt like to have my dick rolling around in that mouth, or my tongue, but that is where I have to stop. This girl would have me panting and begging at her feet if I ever let my mouth settle on hers.

When she finally swallows, her eyes roll back in her head. "Oh my God, this is incredible!" She says and then moans. Fucking moans. "Where did you get it?"

I could feel my face getting hot. I am actually fucking blushing.

Should I tell her? It couldn't hurt to let her know I am domesticated. For some reason I really want her to know that. "I made it."

But when she asks her next question I know that I have to stop while I still have some type of rein on my emotions_. Do I like to cook?_ It seems like a simple enough question, but I have to draw the line. No personal questions. The rules.

"Too personal." I try to smile unsuccessfully. _Dumb rules_.

I quickly grab her iPod to distract myself from my thoughts. I definitely find something that distracts me…

"Edward's playlist." I read aloud. "Was that your husband?"

After some hesitation she says too quietly, "too personal." She is trying to be a smart-ass by using my own rules against me, but I saw the pain in her eyes before she could squeeze them shut.

Edward. I want to hate him…but for what? Because he appeared to have had what I wanted so desperately? A normal life with a fantastic girl…but he was dead now. There was no hate in me, no jealousy even…just a strange kind of sadness for someone I never even knew…just for what he left behind.

She stops eating, of course…I just mentioned her dead husband after all. _Who would have an appetite after that?_ Maybe I can be even more inconsiderate and ask her what sexual positions her recently dead husband preferred_. Keep up the good work, Jasper._

The loss is obviously still affecting her in profound ways. When she starts to wipe the little splash of sauce on her face I can't stop myself from detaining her hand that held the paper towel with my hand while I brought my other one up to wipe the offending mark away. Without thought, I pass over her succulent lips. They feel perfect. The way she opens her mouth slightly, and breathes on the tip of my thumb is amazing, sending my heart into overdrive. The urge to pull her lips to mine is almost unbearable.

I don't know how I manage, but I force my eyes away from hers. I stare at her iPod trying to focus on taking steady breaths.

The first day we met she had asked me to look through her iPod and I had given it back to her without knowing a single song that she had on it. I had been too preoccupied with thoughts and strange emotions. This time would be no different. I couldn't fucking think or concentrate on anything except her warm, sensual body right next to mine, begging for my attention. Begging for my lips to suck, my hands to roam, my body to slide against…

Fuck, I am hard as steel, and I can feel the sweat build all over my body as liquid fire floods my veins. As experienced as I am these feelings are foreign to me. Never have I felt this surge of desire and longing. It is as painful, as it is pleasurable. I've gone too long without letting anyone in. I have long forgotten the joys of pure lust, too long I have coldly and methodically fulfilled my duties, only feeling satisfaction at the physical release.

This girl is totally unaware of the havoc that goes on inside me every time I see her. She brings out all of my baser instincts. I want…no need…to possess her, to make her mine. Forcing myself to back off, and keep a distance, mentally, is a struggle that is kicking my ass. I want her, there is no denying it, but I want her in ways that are just not possible. Ways that I refuse to think about anymore.

I hand her iPod back to her claiming that I don't know what to play. I have no idea as to how this conversation is going because I am trying to control my clamoring emotions.

She is really trying to lighten the mood. She seems more comfortable with me. She seems almost happy. The thought makes me smile. She is currently teasing me about not being able to do something as easy as picking a song from music she has already deemed as her favorites by having it on her iPod to begin with. I laugh with her, because the sound of her laugh is infectious.

She all of a sudden has a faraway look in her eyes and sighs. What is that? What is she thinking? I had to know, but I have no right to ask. Instead I just pick a random song from Led Zeppelin. I know whatever I play from them I will like.

She seems surprised at my choice. "Led Zeppelin is a little old for you, isn't it?"

"No, my band is…" I stop abruptly. FUCK! I look down at my hands. I can't seem to stop myself from making mistakes around her. When I am with her I can't remember my own rules, my filter, my job, my life.

I divert attention by cleaning up the mess from our snack, as I try to focus on another topic. I am not quite ready to go up to the apartment yet, and since she is not acting like I am putting her out by stalling, I decide to squeeze a few more minutes out of her.

"So…what have you been up to the last five weeks?" _Oh no, please tell me I didn't._

I CANNOT believe I just asked her that! What. The. FUCK! I gaze out the passenger window as I contemplate just how fucking stupid I am. _Did I just tell her exactly how long it had been since I saw her last?_ Instead of her making fun of me or freaking out at my stalker-like tendencies she simply answers. "I've been pretty busy. I work a lot and I take some classes."

I snap my head around to look at her. She was fidgeting a bit, she is tracing the steering wheel with one of her fingers for nothing more than something to do. I am too afraid to speak. Afraid I might say something else that I shouldn't. I want to ask her about her classes and what else keeps her busy, but I have overstepped my bounds. The next move will be hers.

"So how much do you charge for "extras?" She asks, her curiosity returning. Oh God, how I want to do those things with her. I want to taste her pussy, and I want to fucking tell her how much I want to, but those are ala carte, and I am an expensive son of a bitch.

"It depends on what you want." I say lightly.

"You mean you don't have a price list that I can peruse?" I laugh at her obvious joke. I love this girl's sense of humor. I know if I talked to her much longer I would love much more about her. I turn serious as I know my time with her is up.

"No, but I'll look into doing that." And then I quietly add, "I should check to see if James is done." We smile at each for a moment before I get out and run into the building.

I move into the lobby and rest my back against a wall that she can't see me from. I shut my eyes and try to psyche myself up for this. Random words float through my mind, reminding me of my position tonight as her whore.

_Professional. Business. Proficient. Indifference. Detachment. Can't Feel. Don't Care._

I push myself off of the wall and signal her in. Watching her walk in…her hips swaying, her long chocolate hair blowing in the breeze, a small smile playing on her lips, I can't remember one of those words that not thirty seconds ago, I tried to imprint into my brain to prepare me for this coming encounter.

When we are in the elevator I find that I can drudge up one of the words. _Indifference._ What a fucking laugh. I am not deluding myself just enough to know the chances are pathetic, but I am still going to try my best to remember that word for the remainder of the evening.

Practicing my skills at impartiality I head right for my room, and right to work. Getting directly down to business I flip on the dim lamp for "ambience" and then turn to her, bearing down on her, I remove my shirt. I immediately reach for her shirt and pull it over her head. I take her in briefly before I unbutton and discard my jeans. Without hesitation she does the same so that she is left in nothing but her underclothes.

Before she can unhook her bra, I put my arms around her and whisper in her ear. "Let me, darlin'." I cringe at how easy the term of endearment falls from my lips. Her breath stutters, and she rubs against me sinuously, making me impossibly harder than I already am. She tilts her head, giving me full access to her flawless neck, and I take advantage by skimming my lips and teeth over the tender flesh.

_Remember - indifference._

I place open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder, biting the strap of her bra. Again she brings out the primitive urges in me. I have to consume her, I want to bite into her flawless skin, mark her as mine, but I can't. I quickly divest her of her bra and press her naked breasts into my body as tight as I can.

Her hands lift to my hair, fisting it. I feel wetness on my nipple ring, and I almost come undone as I look down to find her pink tongue poking out against my nipple. I lead her to the bed and practically throw her on it. I stare down at her trying unsuccessfully to gather myself. Too much, too soon. _How is that possible?_

_Indifference – don't desert me now._

She gets impatient. She sits up and yanks my boxers off my body. Aww fuck! My throbbing dick is just inches from her lovely mouth. I could scream; it was so close and so goddamn far away.

_Oh sweet mother of God…fucking help me now. _

She wants to put her mouth on it, I can see it her eyes. She wants to suck me off and fuck, I want to let her. I dip my head back onto my shoulders and groan when she breathes on it. When I am tempted beyond reason to push my cock into those waiting lips and hold her head so I can fuck her mouth senseless I push her backward on the bed and follow her down immediately, landing full on top of her.

Wanting to give her some of her own medicine I attack her collarbone with my tongue and lips while I manipulate her nipples with my fingers, giving her the most pleasure. My lips follow my hands as I swirl my tongue along her nipples. Her hands move erratically through my hair, she arches her back off the bed and moans softly. My hands roam in wild abandon over every surface of her body, never, ever, getting enough.

Grasping at the indifference that I am so desperately hanging onto by a thread, I stand up and move to my dresser, suddenly needing the space between us. I get a condom from the drawer, look down at my raging hard on, and then at her. Silently asking her if she wants to have the pleasure. She immediately and enthusiastically accepts. Once she accomplishes that, I remove her only remaining garment; her panties. I try so hard not to look at her beautiful pussy, but I can't take my eyes off of it. I want to worship it.

I crawl over her and lower myself, but she moves from underneath me and I land on the bed. _OOOkkaay._ I look up at her for an explanation, and holy fuck did I get one.

"I want to be on top." She says breathlessly. _Jesus_. This girl is going to send me to the deepest pits of hell with a smile on my face…but I deserve this. I deserve to have a glimpse at something I can never have. I'm just masochistic like that.

I don't speak, because I don't honestly think I could even if I tried. I watch heatedly as she climbs on top, and straddles me. I position my cock for entry, but she grabs my hand and whispers, "not yet." My hands slide over her thighs as I wait for her to have her way with me. Then she begins to move her wet cunt back and forth over my shaft.

The friction is driving me fucking crazy. I want to tell her, in detail, exactly what she is doing to me, but thankfully for some reason I still have some semblance of control over my mouth. My body, however, is a different story. My chest is heaving spasmodically and my hips are grinding into hers in a frenetic pattern. I want to yell, I want to plead with her to ride my cock. My stomach is burning and my balls are tightening. This can't happen.

_I am a professional. What was that word? Fuck. Oh Yeah. Where the fuck is my indifference?_

Finally, she takes my cock, and impales herself inch by slow fucking inch on it, but she doesn't move. I want to growl out my frustration. She takes my nipple and nipple ring in her mouth.

I decided that this is fucking torture. I feel like I am being stretched out on a rack, where bones are breaking and muscles are tearing.

She lifts her mouth from my nipple and pinches it. "This is so fucking sexy." She whispers. My hips come off of the bed as I let out an agonized groan. _Why is she doing this to me?_

Thank heaven she starts moving, slowly sliding up and down my engorged shaft. I have handfuls of her hair in my hands, but the rest is spread out on my chest. I try not to visualize that image, I am already too close to cumming, and I am sure that would send me over the edge.

I feel her orgasm approaching as her pussy clenches around me. One touch to her clit should put her over the edge. I stall, not wanting this to be over.

She trails her tongue up my neck and she tugs my earlobe with her teeth and then whispers, "God, you are so fucking hot underneath me. I wish I could fuck you all night."

_Indifference- officially MIA._

I lay helpless as I watch myself lose control. No amount of self preservation can stop me from grabbing her hips and driving her up and down over my dick.

_Goddammit. Please cum._

Knowing I am on the edge, I beg silently for her to reach her peak. I watch her above me, her hair is wild and tangled, and her lips are parted as she breathes in rapidly. She has beads of sweat on the bridge of her nose and on the top of her lip. I watch a bead of sweat travel from her pale neck and trail down between the valley of her beautiful tits. She is so sexy. I avert my eyes to the ceiling, knowing I am playing with fire.

I am so fucking close, but I am pretty sure that I can hold off as I feel her tightening against me.

_Fuck, that feels so good._

Lost in the sensations, she catches me completely unaware when she bites down on my nipple. My hips lift off the bed once again, and I realize that the battle of holding onto my orgasm is now over. Without permission my body stiffens and her walls tighten around me as I grow impossibly large inside of her. Fuck! "Cum!...Cum now, damnit…Ah, FUCK!" My stomach shudders uncontrollably as I shoot streams of my hot cum inside of her. Thankfully, in the throes of my orgasm I feel her climax around me.

She buries her head in my neck while her spasms take hold of her. I undulate against her, until her tremors subside, trying to prolong her pleasure, but me…my mind is racing. In all the time that I have been doing this…the countless girls that I have been with…I have never came before the client.

"My name is Bella, by the way_." Jesus Christ, she is trying to kill me._

_Bella._ I don't know how I resisted the urge to grab her by the hair and push my tongue into that beautiful mouth, now resting on my ear.

I don't want to fucking know her name. I don't want to feel this sudden surge of contentment as she lies over top of me, my softening cock still encased in her wonderful warmth. I don't want to feel the relief that she came back to me. I don't want to feel the pressure in my chest that signifies I will once again have to let her go, not knowing if she will ever return again.

If this was anyone else I would be up and dressed by now, but I can't help but hold her for a few more seconds, relishing the feeling of having her naked form wrapped up in my arms.

"Sooo, it didn't seem like you were too into it, did you like it?" I open my eyes and am surprised when she is looking at me with a devilish grin on her face. She looks supremely satisfied with herself for her accomplishment.

I want to focus on her, right now. I can dwell on the other things plaguing my mind later when I am alone.

"So, you think you're just all that now?" I tease her, catching onto her contagious behavior. She shakes her head vigorously. She is so fucking adorable.

"Oh, yeah? Well what do you think of this?" I tickle her. We switch positions so that I am now hovering over her, tickling her incessantly. I love watching her like this. Love?

When the urge is too strong for me to rest my lips on hers I roll over. Oh fuck. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I am falling for her…hard. I need to be alone ASAP. I have to think about what my alternatives are here. Did I have any choices? This was going to take some time to think through for sure.

"Can you drive me back?" _Back to reality._

The car ride is silent. I am going back over what happened tonight. How I came undone so easily for _Bella_. Thinking her name, unwillingly made my heart soar. Why did she tell me her name? Was she planning on seeing me again? I want to ask, but I refrain just in case her answer is no. I didn't want to ruin this aura of complete contentment that Bella has placed around me.

She stops to let me out and again the urge to ask her if she will be back is overpowering, but I force myself not to and settle on a simple, "Bye, Bella." That is the first time I say her name out loud and it sounds so sweet. I could definitely get used to saying it more often. I step out of the car fervently hoping that I would be able to.

XXXXX

As soon as I walk in the door Rosalie is immediately on my heels. "Jasper…we need to talk."

"No."

She is not going to ruin my state of euphoria. There was only so much time that I was going to have _Bella's_ smell on me, her taste still in my mouth and, fresh, unfettered memories. I am not going to waste this precious time bickering with my so called sister. I try to move past her, but she won't let me pass without at least trying to stop me, and I really don't want her touching me.

She crosses her arms over her chest defiantly. "Well, I won't be leaving until I do."

Resignation and defeat reside in me. I let out a huff of extreme annoyance. I move past her as I say scathingly. "Well, first, let me just make sure you didn't poison James while I was gone."

It is her turn to huff irritably. I snicker, remembering how easy and fun it used to be to exasperate Rosalie.

Did I just giggle? What the hell is the girl…Bella…doing to me?

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**AN: SOOOO, was he exactly as you thought he would be when you read Finding Relief? I appreciate all of your comments, so please let me know what you think so far.**

**How many have you dared to go see "New Moon" already? I consider myself a pretty bigtime Twilight fan but there is no fucking way I am getting near a movie theatre for the next couple of days...at least.**


	8. Deity of Hopelessness

**AN: Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**

**I just want to remind everyone that the voting is still open for the "Home For The Holiday's" contest. The link is on my profile if you would like to place your vote for that. I would really appreciate any votes for my "A Delicious Experiment" but if you don't like that one – vote for another!**

**QueenBeta Cullen818 edited this on Thanksgiving Day, with the flu. That is just how fucking awesome she is.**

**I do not own twilight or any of it's characters.**

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"_**We stand as it were, on the shore, and see multitudes of our fellow beings struggling in the water, stretching forth their arms, sinking, drowning, and we are powerless to assist them." – Felix Adler**_

**Chapter 8 **

I creep into James' room quietly not wanting to wake him up, if possible. He appears to be sleeping peacefully. The nurse is sitting in the recliner immersed in a book. I must have accomplished my stealth moves because the nurse jumps when she finally recognizes that I am standing over James. I hold my finger to my lips, effectively telling her not to speak.

Moving a stray lock of hair out of James' eye I inspect the damage still evident on his face. The swelling is starting to go down, the shape of his face returning to normal. However, it is colored with deep purple splotches. Bruises garnish the skin under both of his eyes and along his cheek. The small gash on his forehead has faded slightly, but will never completely disappear. James will always have a reminder of the severe beating that he had to endure. Thankfully, the scar will be located just under his hairline, and will hardly be noticeable. It will no way detract from his looks or his ability to gather new business if that is his wish.

Once I am satisfied that Rosalie didn't do any damage…externally…I turn to leave. The nurse puts down her book, and follows me outside of his room. We still keep our voices low as we discuss his status.

"Just an FYI Jasper…he is going to be pissed when he get's up." She says frankly.

_What the fuck happened now?_ I am positive that Rosalie has something to do with whatever happened, and I can't wait to bitch her out for it.

"I am probably going to need some interference from you tomorrow." She rubs her temples, as if envisioning the scene he will surely cause when he wakes up from whatever the hell occurred.

"What happened?" I ask warily.

"Well, after supper…which was delicious by the way, he refused to take any pain medication, so after about an hour or so he started to feel discomfort from his injuries." She sighs and continues. "I asked if I could just give him a lower dose, but he adamantly refused. Up until that point, he and your sister had been getting along fine, but as he started feeling more pain, his patience began wearing thin and he started snapping at her."

She lowers her head, and spoke quickly. "Well, shit Jasper, what ended up happening is that your sister held him down on the bed while I administered a sedative."

_Jesus fucking Christ._

"You did this without his permission?" I am not accusing her, just gathering facts.

"Yes. Normally I wouldn't ever do such a thing, but I couldn't stand to see his face so tortured. He was practically writhing on the bed; your sister and I both had enough. We were both starting to feel the pain too." She looks at me defiantly. "I'd say I'm sorry, but it just wouldn't feel right lying to you like that."

"Okay. Okay. It's fine. We will work this out tomorrow." I put my hands through my hair, completely frustrated. "I will try talking to him in the morning, but is there any way that we can get him on some kind of a pill? Something with a lower dose, maybe? He is only going to get stronger, and we can't hold him down all the time. We can pass a pill off as something akin to Tylenol. We'll have to let him start feeling some of the pain to make this work. He has to feel like he is in control, but not to the point of agony. Y'know?"

She shakes her head in agreement. "I am not allowed to do anything without his daddy's permission, but I will get on the phone right away and make my recommendation." It takes everything in me not to snort. His fucking "_daddy"_ hasn't been here one fucking time since he was hurt.

Shit. Now I can't yell at Rosalie. She actually did what I would have done had I been here. Rosalie and I have always thought along similar lines. We will do anything for the people we cared about. But she had stopped caring about me a long time ago. It makes me wonder what kind of relationship we might have had if she hadn't lost her faith in me so many years ago.

I sigh heavily. The weight of everything going on, and not having anyone to talk to about it is starting to get to me.

I walk out into the living room to find Rosalie staring blindly out the window. She looks sad…and older. When we were younger folks used to say that Rosalie and I looked like twins. We are similar, but we each have our uniqueness. Physically, we both have blond hair, but hers is straight, mine spirals. We both have blue eyes, but hers are like topaz, and mine like sapphires. We both have the same crooked grin, or at least we used to. I haven't seen hers in many years. Emotionally, it is hard to say since she hasn't been in my life. Before the incident, we used to have a pretty good relationship. We were both teenagers so we definitely had bouts of sibling rivalry, and angst, but overall we had the same hobbies, same sense of humor, and no bullshit attitude.

Feelings of sadness well up in my chest, because she had given up on me. She turned her back on me when I needed her the most. I won't ever forget that, but can I eventually learn to forgive her?

_I just don't know. _

Why am I thinking about this all of a sudden? Rosalie and I have had several encounters since she has had her change of heart, but never once have I ever regarded her as someone I would ever consider letting back in my life, let alone in my heart again. It hurt my head to think about this right now. So I step into the room making my presence known to her by clearing my throat. Her expression changes to one of chagrin, and she looks at me reproachfully.

"So, you couldn't skip out on one night of work to help your friend?" She says with venom dripping from her tone. I had a feeling that she would turn this around on me when she offered to stay while I ran my errand. It worked. I hated that I was selfish and left him tonight, but we've already established the fact that I am a fucked up friend. However, there was no goddamn way I was going to let her know her words cut me.

"Rosalie, I have told you time and time again to stay the fuck away from me and my business. You offered to stay here while I went out, and that was your damn choice. James had a nurse that was taking care of him. Regardless of what you think James has been able to take care of himself."

She scoffs at that. "You think he can take care of himself? Do you know what we had to do to him tonight?"

The air goes out of me, I just don't feel like doing this, and if I admit it, I really do owe her. If James had suffered until I arrived back to help administer the drug my self-disgust would have been raised through the roof. "Yes, and I appreciate it."

She seems surprised by my words. "What?"

"Thank you Rosie." I whisper, avoiding eye contact.

She comes up to me, and grabs me by the biceps. "Look at me Jazz." I bring my eyes to meet her stormy ones, filled with tears. She shakes me slightly. "Why is it so hard for the both of you to ask for help?"

I don't know how to answer that. She pulls me over to the sofa, and we sit down. She continues to hold one of my limp hands in hers. She faces toward me with a look of determination on her face.

"Jasper, you need to start talking about what happened."

"NO!" I say firmly, but quietly enough so that I don't wake James up. I actually wanted to scream it. That is the last fucking thing I want to talk about. I had so much shit going on in my current life at this moment I didn't need to dredge up memories of the past too.

"Jasper you are never going to be able to live a full life until you do." She beseeches me.

"Why the fuck do you care now Rosalie? Where were you when I needed you to care?" I have never once asked her that, and I can see the naked pain and remorse in her eyes. _Why did I ask her that now?_ It made no difference, her regret made an appearance too late. The time for clemency had passed long ago, as did the chance for us to be a family.

"I am so sor…" I interrupt her by standing up and giving her a death glare. I cannot deal with this. The shame I feel over what I had done is paramount, and will not take a backseat to forgiveness from anyone. I don't deserve it.

"I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. It! Do I make myself fucking clear Rosalie?"

"Well, can we talk about me for a second Jazz? 'Cause I have to tell you something?"

I raise my eyebrows, giving her an expression that clearly states that she is walking on very thin ice, but I take a seat in the chair next to the sofa. She scoots over to the edge of the sofa so she is as close to me as she is going to get.

"Jazz, after mom and dad…after they died…I fell apart. I couldn't function. I lost it one day in school and beat up a girl for bumping me in the hallway. Thankfully, the girl didn't press charges, but they told me they would kick me out of school if I didn't talk to a counselor for my anger. I went, but I refused to open up about anything."

I feign boredom while she speaks, but really, I listen intently. I want to know what has changed her. I want to know why all of a sudden she wants me back in her life. Can someone really help her get over all of her insecurities, fears and most of all, mistakes?

"The school counselor I was going to referred me to a friend of hers. A therapist. His name is Alistair, and after a few months of seeing him twice a week I started to talk. Jazz, I am still working on it, and I still see him twice a month, but I am learning how to deal and cope with the things from our past." She gives me a small smile. "I talk about you all the time. When I first started seeing him, it was all negative of course…I thought I hated you. Through our conversations I learned how very wrong I was."

I start shaking my head. I don't want to go follow this path she is leading me down, the path that requires me to forgive and forget. Because she is not only asking me to forgive and forget what she had done, but to forgive and forget what I had done, and well, that just isn't in the cards for me.

"Rosie, please. Don't ask this of me."

"Jasper, you deserve more than all this." She says waving her hand around. She pulls her purse to her and searches through it before she finds what she is looking for. She pulls out a business card and hands it to me.

"I just want to leave you with this. When you're ready, please call him. I wasn't there for you, and I don't expect you to…ever…" she pauses and she chokes on her words as they become thick with regret. "forget…what I did, but I am not going to ever give up on you again…and when you are ready to hear why I won't, I will tell you Jazz." Tears fall freely from her eyes, and she gathers me in her strong arms.

Rosalie understands that there is no way I am going to respond. I am just not ready…yet. So I change the subject, as her warm embrace is making me feel uncomfortable at not being able to return it in the way she would like. "What did you and James talk about?"

"None of your fucking business brother." When she pulls away her wet face has a smile on it. I have a strange urge to wipe her tears away, but this was way too much, way too soon. I step away to put some distance between us. I realize that this is as much of a step as I am going to take this night, and I can see that she comprehends my actions correctly. She backs away too, but I can see a glimmer of hope in her eyes and a small smile playing on her lips. I have a feeling that she is satisfied with our progress, for now.

We talk for several more minutes about mundane things, and then she takes off. I throw the therapist's business card on the night stand in my bedroom. _God, that guy would have a field day with me. _As I strip off my clothes to head for the shower I pull my shirt over my head and catch a whiff of strawberries. _Bella_. I push the T-shirt into my nose and breathe in deep.

I lie back on my bed with the fabric still pressed to my face, remembering this evening. _Her name is Bella._ She is everything I remembered plus more. She is beautiful, yes, but today I found out so much more. Her personality exceeded my ideals. What I got a taste of her personality the first time led me to have certain expectations, which she surpassed tonight. Her curiosity was just as voracious as it was the first time. I had to laugh at some of the questions she asks. Each smile and laugh that I received assuaged any guilt that may have lingered by telling her the falsehood about James being in the apartment. Getting to know her better was well worth the price of the fib.

And the sex…fuckin' A.

The sex was amazing. I am still astounded that I came before she did. What was she trying to prove tonight? Was she trying to find out if she had the skills to get a professional off before her? _Well, bravo…job well done._

I hope to God she didn't realize what had occurred to me tonight - that I am falling for her. I had known deep down from the first time I saw her that I was capable of wanting her for more than just a client, but the slim possibility of her ever coming back made me unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that overtook me as I held her in my arms again. I don't think she noticed and I prayed to God she didn't. I would never see her again.

_What the fuck am I going to do?_ I have no clue. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and frankly the feelings are very much unwanted, but I can't change what has happened. I can't change the way I feel about her. I don't even know if I am ever going to see her again. This is so out of my fucking control and it is enough to drive me mad. How long will I find myself unconsciously scanning the crowds for her? She waited over a month to come back to me. If she did decide to come back will it take that long again?

_Oh God._ I can't believe I blurted that I remembered exactly how long it had been since I had seen her last. How fucking embarrassing, but she hadn't even acknowledged how pathetic I was. She seemed surprised and…happy. It seemed like she enjoyed my company. Jesus, I can't allow my mind to go there…to think that she actually likes me for more than what she is paying for.

She makes me want to grab things that are out of my reach. She makes me want to be somebody I can never be. I want her…all of her. Even if I tried…even if I gave up whoring and if I went back to school, would I even stand a chance? No. I am too fucked up mentally. On the outside I look like society's version of "normal", but on the inside I am demented. Deformed, beyond reason, by my inability to forget my past, dysfunctional in my failure to ever do the right thing. And selfish, by my incapacity to let her go, if it ever came to that. I would keep her…and in time, suck the life out of her.

Forgetting all about the shower, I fell asleep with those thoughts.

XXXXX

The screams, the sirens, the crying…

Through blurry eyes I hold my dying four-year-old sister in my arms as I wait for the ambulance to arrive.

_Please live._ I know it's a dream, but it doesn't stop me from begging for a different outcome.

_Please live._ She will die I am sure. I have lived in this dream almost every night for the last ten years.

_Please make her live_. I plead the paramedics as they grab her lifeless body out of my arms, but each time they are unable to revive her.

_Please nooooo._ I watch mutely as they put the blanket over her head, signaling that they have given up on her. I turn to watch horrified as my mother falls to the ground in agonized pain and my dad tries feebly to maintain his composure.

_Oh God_. In shock, I stand up a dizzily taking a few stumbling steps toward my parents. Rosalie sees me coming towards them and lets out a blood-curdling cry, my eyes move in slow motion to my dad now sobbing as he looks at something in my hand.

_What have I done?_ I look down and notice finally that I have a death grip on Claire's blanket. I drop to my knees and let out a feral roar. _NOOOOOOOOO!_

"C'mon Jazz…" I hear vaguely. Someone is shaking me.

"Wake up goddammit. Wake the fuck up." My eyes pop open and I see James standing over me, gripping his side, holding his ribs in place, while a mask of pain glazes over his features.

"What the…" My life moves from the past to the present, and realization dawns. "What the hell are you doing?" I scream, jumping out of bed and pulling on a pair of boxers quickly.

"For fucksakes, you were in the middle of your infamous dream. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Huh? Let you sit there and scream all night."

"Where the fuck is the nurse?" James scoffs, as if she could have stopped him. She runs in the room at just that moment. She looks at James in shock.

"I just went out to get some fresh air for a few minutes." I can tell by the stench that she has been smoking, which brings on a fresh surge of regret and hopelessness.

"James," she admonishes. "What are you doing in here?"

James gives her a withering stare. I hold out a hand to the nurse effectively cutting off any lecture that she would have started. It is obvious that James would have torn her a new one if she chastised him for coming to help me.

_What did I do to deserve a friend like James?_ The answer makes me chuckle in the midst of all this upheaval. I deserve him for everything I have done wrong in my life, and I deserve him for everything I have ever done right. James _is_ the definition of contradiction.

I move to his good side and put my arm around his middle, he shudders and groans in pain, but leans in to me as we take baby steps back to his bedroom. Once he has been deposited on his bed and I tuck him in, I scamper to the kitchen and grab a glass of milk. I stand at the kitchen counter, both my hands clasping the countertop holding up my frame as I dip my head low between my shoulders.

How many more times am I going to have to wake up like this? I look down at my soaking chest, my heart is still beating wildly, my mind still running rampant with emotion.

In sleep, I can't ever escape the retelling of that catastrophic day. My life, my future, my hopes and dreams all ended that day.

My personal apocalypse.

I grab my glass of milk and move to the kitchen table. My hands dive into my hair as I recall the events of that day.

*Flashback*

_I climb out on the roof and light up. Mom and Dad will kill me if they find out that I am smoking. Oh well. Don't fucking care. They'll get over it. _

_We live in a one and a half story colonial home, and the window in my bedroom is placed immediately over the half of the house that did not have an upper story, allowing me access to the rooftop. I use this space often as my courtyard. _

_It takes only a moment for the pest to find me. "Watcha doin' Jazzy?"_

_I hide my cigarette from her curious blue eyes. Just because I don't care if my parents find out doesn't mean I want to instigate the immediate lecture that I would receive. "Nothing. Go pick out a movie and I will put it in for you Seed."_

_Pumpkin Seed is my nickname for Claire. Seed for short. She earned it last year when we were carving pumpkins for Halloween. As we gutted them in preparation for carving, we separated the seeds so that Mom could bake them for us later. We had talked about how excited we were to eat them. Listening to us talk about how great they were, Claire popped one in her mouth, wanting to see how good they were for herself. She was not aware of the process required before they were deemed edible. After rolling the raw unwashed seed around in her mouth momentarily she promptly vomited her dinner all over the table. Ever since then she has been my Pumpkin Seed._

"_Can I come out there with you?" _

"_Nope, this is for adults only. It is too dangerous for you…okay?"_

_She nodded her head dejectedly, but I know her all too well. She had the Hale spirit. "Promise me Seed."_

"_Promise." She says quietly and makes her way through my bedroom. By the time she left my cigarette was half gone. "Fuck it." I throw it over the edge and climb back in my window._

_I traipse downstairs and roll my eyes when I see that Claire has picked "Toy Story"…yet again. How many times can one watch this movie? Oh, well, it's not like I am going to be the one to watch it. I pop the movie in and proceed to make my way to my room for some "Final Fantasy 8". It just came out last week, and thanks to my part time job at the lumberyard I could afford to get the game the day it came out._

"_Jazzy, will you get my blankie?"_

_I groan, and run up the stairs taking two at a time. As I am making my way back down the hallway I hear my cell phone ring from my own bedroom. I pick up the phone and recognize the number instantly. "Hey fuckwad," I answer._

_It is Eric. Eric and I have been best friends since third grade. He is the geeky smart type and besides video games, he didn't like to do anything remotely close to fun anymore, preferring studies and books, but somehow we still seemed to find common ground and hang out. _

"_Hey dude." He sounds forlorn._

"_What's up with you? Are you coming over when my parents get home to play FF8?"_

"_No, my aunt, uncle and cousin are here from Chicago." He pouts._

"_Really? That sucks!" I grab my smokes and climb out the window. "What do you have to stay around for?" I ask as I take a drag off my smoke. I sit down on the ledge waiting his answer._

"_I have to entertain my cousin James." He scoffs._

"_Well, why can't James come with you?"_

"_Aww man, he is a total fuck up. He totally pisses me off. He gets whatever the fuck he wants…apparently, they are staying with us for the next few weeks, and I don't know what I am going to do…" I tune him out as he rants about his cousin._

_I interrupt him a few minutes later when he is still going on. "Just bring him over Eric. I mean, how much trouble can the guy cause in the couple hours he will be here?" I get up, flick my smoke over the edge, and make my way back into my room and set up my Playstation. _

_He snorts, but agrees to bring him over after supper, his reservations overridden by his strong desire to play the new game. I drop the phone on the floor next to me as I take the game controller and maneuver my way through the village anticipating my first fight. Just as a huge monster overtakes the screen and I have to fight for my fictional characters life, I hear a pesky voice at the doorway. "Jaaazzzy" Claire whines._

_Oh fuck. Her stupid blanket. I look around for it, as I keep one eye on the TV screen. I know I grabbed it. Shit, where did I put it?_

_Shit…I left it outside. "Hold on a second Seed. I'll get it in just one minute." Almost having defeated this hideous looking monster, I handle the controller like an expert. I realize she didn't respond. "Seed?" My eyes flicker over to the door and I don't see her. I am in the process of returning my eyes to the TV when I see a flash of something out my window._

"_CLLLAAAIIRREE" I scream. I run to the window that I left open to find her making her way slowly to her blanket that I left on the ledge. "Claire, what did I tell you? Stay right where you are. I am coming to get you." _

_But I couldn't stop it from happening. She bent down to pick her blanket and toppled off of the edge of the roof. I am frozen in fear, until I hear the sickening thud as she lands on the ground._

_I race down the stairs and out the front door. I run and drop to my knees in front of Claire. Her leg is twisted at an odd angle; blood is trickling slowly from her nose and her mouth. I sob uncontrollably as I hold her little body._

_She lays her hand on my cheek and whispers "J-J-Jazzy, I am so, so s-s-sorry" Fucking Hell! I can't believe she is apologizing to me for going out on the roof when I told her not to. _

_Those are her last fucking words and I can't find my voice to respond, my devastation leaves my vocal cords paralyzed. She dies in my arms; the paramedics to everything they could to resuscitate her. They work on her for over ten minutes trying to get her heart to restart but the internal damage is too much for her. _

_I don't move from my spot until they load her into the ambulance. I look up to find my family several feet away, shock, pain, horror in their faces. I want to go to them, I need to receive and supply comfort, reassurance, and support. I need to know that they still love me. _

_When I stumble toward them and they notice that I am unknowingly white knuckling Claire's blanket I fall to my knees. At that moment I see the evidence, I see their faces, they didn't just register the pain of losing Claire, they held shame. They do blame me, and rightly so. I killed her._

_That is when I look around at the nosy crowd that gathered to witness our devastation, I notice everyone around me is looking at me the same way, they are looking at me with scorn and disgust on their face, wordlessly accusing me, silently condemning me…except one boy, who stares at me intently, his eyes are glazed over, he looks at me with regret and sorrow, he is the boy standing next to Eric… _

_My brain goes into self-preservation mode, and I become numb. _

_That must be James._

*End of Flashback*

The couple of weeks after Claire's death were a fog. People acted as if I had the plague, even Eric was told he wasn't allowed to hang around me…but what was worse is that he complied without dispute…but his cousin didn't. I think all the controversy made James more adamant to stick by my side, pretty close to 24/7, while he remained in town.

We didn't do much. James was pretty satisfied at sitting in my room with books and CD's. We made small talk but didn't delve into anything too deep. He left with his parents a few weeks later to go back home to Chicago, and I missed his presence almost immediately. He felt like a blanket, covering me…protecting me. If we walked down the street and people were staring he would give them a contemptuous look and they would look away instantly. When he left the animosity was unbearable. I couldn't go anywhere without being treated with a cold shoulder.

It didn't matter what Mom and Dad had said. I knew that my parents hadn't forgiven me for what happened. They tried to act like it was an accident, and not my fault, but they had left too much of an impression on me that day to ever make the guilt I felt go away. Rosalie had always been impartial until we were told that we were moving. We all knew that we were moving because of me, leaving this life that we had with Claire behind us, to move away from the censure of the townsfolk.

Rosalie had blamed me, screaming at me furiously, telling me it was all my fault, that I had killed Claire. She was right, and I could have dealt with her accusations, but she was relentless in making the next couple months of my life pure torture. She had quickly informed all of her new friends at our new school in Michigan what had happened in Texas. It didn't take long for me to become an outcast there too. I had been keeping in touch with James so when I advised him of how Rosalie sabotaged my "fresh start" in my new school, he immediately spoke with his dad, and got me transferred into his private school in Chicago.

It hurt somewhat that my parents were so willing to give me up, but I was grateful. They said that it was because of all the shit Rosalie was causing at school, but I knew it was because they just didn't want to look at me everyday, and be reminded of what I took from them.

I only visited them on holidays, and I rarely called my mom back when she would check on me once a week. Our relationship carried the same pattern in the years that followed.

My mom tried several times throughout the years to reiterate how much she and Dad loved me and didn't blame me for anything that happened, and eventually, I believed that she really didn't blame me...but that was the problem…she should have, but she blamed herself instead.

When they died, Rosalie and I were both left with a sizeable inheritance. They also left me a letter…a letter to this day I have not read. The inheritance also remains untouched.

My mom died faulting herself for leaving me in charge…an irresponsible teen. It killed me that she passed away holding herself liable for what I had done.

I might as well have pushed Claire off that roof myself. I showed her the way out there, I left her blanket on the ledge, I didn't pay attention to her as she climbed out the window, and I stood there and watched her fall to her death.

I was the _only_ one responsible.

I make my way to the nightstand and pick up the card that Rosalie left.

_Dr. Alistair Brownley, PHD, MA, BA _

_Family and Individual Therapy_

PHD. MA. BA. It doesn't fucking matter.

I crumple it in my hand and throw it in the waste bin.

No one can fix me.

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**AN: Now we know who Claire is and how she has affected Jasper. So what do you guys think, was it as bad (Jasper/Claire) as you thought it would be? Please let me know. **

**Best wishes to all of you that plan on waking up early to shop tomorrow, you are definitely brave. I won't be anywhere near a shopping center. Tried it one year – never, ever, ever, ever again. *shivers at the thought***


	9. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

**AN: Thanks for reading! As you can see Jasper is more talkative than Bella was because his chapters seem to be much longer. I am trying to catch the story up as quickly as possible, but we do have some major stuff left to uncover before we can get to the resolution to Finding Relief. Thanks for hanging in there and I hope you are enjoying this.**

**My QueenBeta and Super hero Cullen818 is participating in a fund raiser called "Hannah's Hope Fund". Her and several other authors are posting 25,000 words each this month for this charity. Please visit her profile for details and please donate if it is possible for you.**

**I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.**

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"_**Every day, people settle for less than they deserve. They are only partially living or at best living a partial life. Every human being has the potential for greatness." – Bo Bennett**_

**Chapter 9 **

The week since I had saw Bella last has passed by in a blur.

Rosalie does not visit this week, for which I am grateful. I don't think she wants to push me too far, too soon, and risk taking a step back. The conversation we had this week has me feeling unsettled and on edge. One thing she has said passes through my mind several times a day, over and over again.

"_Jasper, you deserve more than all this." _

I really haven't thought about the way I am living - up until recently. I never minded the way things swung for me. My little makeshift life has just rolled with the punches. I am more than satisfied, sometimes I even think I am happy, but there is no question that something new is taking form inside of me. Something is slowly tearing down the walls of this façade that has even had me fooled for so long.

I want to blame these affects from James' attack, but if I am honest, I know that it started before then. I don't have to delve too deep to know it the real reason for my sudden discontent. Bella.

She had an effect on me before I even knew her name.

I sincerely hope that it isn't her in particular, but what she signifies; A home, a wife, a family.

She is the kinda girl you want to come home to every night. Not that she doesn't come without a shitload of baggage herself. Anyone that pays a stranger for sex had some issues of their own. Bella is just atypical in that regard. She doesn't appear to be a drug user, and I don't think she has ever been incarcerated or committed any crimes.

I don't know for sure, but her life definitely contains hints of tragedy, which is leading her in the direction of her current course. I don't know how much longer I will see her or how many more times…if at all. It will only be a matter of time before she works out her demons and doesn't need the attentions from a "man of the night" anymore. In any case, I know this isn't going to last forever, and I am scared of what is going to be left of me after she is finished.

I am starting to have dreams lately. Childhood dreams are resurfacing. A real life, full of prospects, goals and most importantly…love. It seems so far away, completely unobtainable, and utterly out of reach for a misfit like me. Yet, knowing this, doesn't stop me from thinking about having it.

But that leads me to imagine what that will mean for James and my relationship with him. Where does he fit into my fantasy world? Does he remain my friend and brother? I notice that for some reason he is always inconspicuously absent from this dream world that I've suddenly created.

The answer to my question is easy though. No.

James will always remain in _this_ life; he would never follow me into a boring world. James desires a life filled with contaminated morals, dangerous threats and tainted intrigue. He likes danger, and he will thrive after this latest attack on his life. He will feel alive and invigorated. He survived and lived to tell, yet another story, about how again his life had almost been taken from him.

The real question is whether I can teeter on the edge of both sides of the fence. Can I have a place in both worlds? Can I have the life I dream of but keep my perilous friend? If not, could I ever leave James behind?

Another resounding "no".

People can debate that James isn't a good friend, a bad influence, but it doesn't matter. I will always do my best to try to convince James to change some of his ways, but I know in my heart that I will stay behind for him. Stupid as that may sound. Right or wrong. He saved me. He was the only one there for me when I needed someone the most. I will never permanently turn my back on him for that.

What an impasse. It feels like my life is so out of my hands.

James is still healing, and is now taking Tylenol three for his injuries. It is still a potent medication, but he feels more in control. Although, it wouldn't be like James if he still didn't act like a petulant child before he is fed each dose, but he takes them dutifully.

He wants to come back to work already. He is fighting through the pain, not allowing it to run his life, but he hadn't put up much of a fight when I insisted that he stay home for another week, and that spoke volumes on how he really feels.

Obviously, it isn't about the cash. James couldn't have cared less about the money, he is just getting bored at home…it's as simple as that.

This week I had the usual business to attend to; Monday a transaction with the small brunette that I have been servicing for several months, Leah on Thursday, and I am supposed to see Victoria tomorrow. Friday's is Victoria's usual night, but she sent me a text today to inform me that she had business associates in town, and that she would meet me tomorrow afternoon instead.

I absolutely loathe when they give me their reasons for not being able to make their appointments. I don't fucking care. Just tell me what time and I will be there. No fucking questions asked. Do they even understand? I am not their boyfriend.

Which reminds me of yesterday, and my encounter with Leah. She is really becoming a pain in my ass. She is constantly demanding more of me, insisting that I reveal more personal details, and her caresses are becoming more…I don't know…strange. Intimate. It creeps me out. I know that having "regulars" can cause some of them to start becoming possessive, but I am really becoming concerned about the way Leah acts around me.

This shit is starting to get old…fast.

When I get back from picking up dinner I walk in to find Jessica staring at a blank TV screen in the living room. As I approach her I notice that her eyes are red and puffy.

_Goddammit…not a fucking day goes by…_

"What's wrong Jessica? Is James okay?"

"Yeah, he is just fucking fine. I only stuck around to tell you that I am not going to band practice with you guys tonight." She states irritably.

All of the members of our band finally had spare time tonight, and are getting together for a long overdue jam session. Lately, the few times we could get together it was more about bonding and stress reduction, than actual practice. I am totally looking forward to that. I need it badly.

James and Jessica also planned on going, but apparently, they had some type of altercation while I had been gone for a whole twenty minutes.

"Jess…"

"I don't want to do this right now." She sobs, keeping her head averted. I can still see the tears fall off of her cheeks, onto her blouse.

She starts to walk around me to leave, but I drop the bag containing dinner on the table and grab her arm to pull her into an awkward hug.

"He just isn't ready for you yet." I whisper. She knows that I will always defend James actions, so she says nothing. She nods, moves out of my embrace and leaves.

I will have it out with him later for hurting her - yet again.

Sighing, I shake my head and wander to James' room to find out what the hell he did to her now. It doesn't take me long to figure it out. Straddling James, clad in her bra and jeans is James' lowlife ex-girlfriend. When they hear me enter the room, they disengage their lips and look at me. Carrie has a nasty smirk on her face, and James has a smile on his face. That is until he saw the look of disgust I know is plain as day on my face. With a look of confusion he arches a brow at me in question.

I turn to the skank, "Carrie." That is my only acknowledgement of her presence. I scan her over briefly before my eyes settle back on James.

She is a cheat, a liar, and a drug user. Three things that James normally doesn't tolerate.

_What does she have on him?_

I look at James briefly before my eyes land on my feet. "Are you coming or not?"

He pushes Carrie gently to the side, so he can get off the bed. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" He still looks perplexed. "But aren't we going to wait for Jessica?"

"What? Didn't you see her? She was here, waiting for me when I got home. She said she can't make it." I glance over at them and find that Carrie's sickening smile only deepens at that knowledge. James has the wherewithal to look ashamed and I think I hear a low "fuck" escape his lips. _Damn right._ I am secretly proud of him for showing that he actually cares for someone other than himself.

Carrie leaves and James and I make my way to band practice. On the car ride to Marcus' James appears to be deep in thought, so I refrain from saying anything.

This is the first time that James has been out since the attack, and I want him to have fun. There will be plenty of time later to discuss his messed up love life.

Band practice, aka: socializing while drinking heavily, ended around two in the morning. James couldn't drink much, and I had stopped just before midnight to make sure that we could make it the five blocks from Marcus' house to ours.

By the time we exit the car I can tell that James had overdone himself tonight, as the pain is evident on his face and actions. He limps slowly while his face glazes over in agony.

I help him get settled into bed.

"G'night." I say tiredly.

"G'night…hey, Jazz? Do you think she saw Carrie?"

"Yeah James, she did."

He looks properly disappointed.

"Well, it's a good thing you guys are _just friends_. Right?" Not waiting for the answer or reaction to my rhetorical question I leave his room.

When I found out that I would be seeing Victoria today I was only mildly concerned. My automatic thought was that Bella was here last Saturday. But what did that really matter? There wasn't any pattern established since the first time she was here had been on a Friday, and there had been over a month of time in between.

Who knows when and if she will show up again, but I know that if she does I won't hesitate to disappoint Victoria again.

As I stand to wait for Victoria to emerge from whatever hole she resides in, I make small talk with Jessica as we watch the throng of people make their way to the bar. There appears to be some type of country-western show going on tonight. We entertain ourselves by making fun of the concert goers, and their choice of attire.

At that moment, a couple is passing us wearing matching outfits. Both are sporting black cowboy hats, black button up shirts with heavy fringe along the arms and outlines of bulls embroidered in white on both breast pockets, tight black denim pants, with fringe also sewn along the sides, big brass belt buckles that covered half of the woman's abdomen. The only difference between the two is that she is wearing red cowboy boots and he has on black. As they pass us with their fringe swaying back and forth Jessica and I share a fit of laughter. Once our humor simmers down I change topics.

Wanting to completely avoid all talk of James and Carrie, I settle for something that has been on my mind. "Jess?"

"Hmm." She says eyeing a pair of men who looks as though they had just left a rodeo. Dirt and all.

Before I chicken out I blurt, "Aren't you getting tired of this?"

She looks at me curiously. "What is up with you Jazz?"

"I don't know. I am just getting tired of hooking. It's not as exciting anymore. Y'know?"

She does smile knowingly. "Jasper, if you are ready to quit. QUIT! Don't let that rat bastard hold you down."

It is clear whom she is referring to. "He isn't."

She snorts, clearly disagreeing. "What - the fuck - ever Jazz. Say what you want. But you are never going to go anywhere with that fuckwad following you around."

That made me angry, so before I say something really out of line I change subjects quickly.

"What are your plans today?" I ask conversationally. She gives me a look, knowing that the previous conversation is closed, and not to say another fucking word.

"Embry." She says with a sour look on her face.

"Man, I am starting to think that his wife is a nutcase." I shake my head in disgust.

"Leah? Yeah, well, if she is anything like her husband I fully understand what you are talking about. He can be a sick fuck when he wants too."

"Where do you go when you are with him?" I wonder.

"He has his own little apartment on the side." She winks.

"That must mean he entertains more than just you." I say with some interest.

"I think you're right." She shrugs indifferently, and then looks past me. "I think your ride is here." She smiles over her double entendre.

"Funny. Tell Embry I said hello." Her smile fades into a scowl, and my smile widens as I give her a light punch on the arm.

"Who is that piece of trash?" Victoria sneers when I get in the car.

"None of your fucking business." I look at her defiantly, not willing to handle any more possessiveness from these bitches.

She smiles satisfactorily, and hands me the money. I stare at the cash for a moment, and then squeeze my eyes shut momentarily, anticipating this afternoon like a fucking colonoscopy.

Opening my eyes, I count out fifteen hundred dollars. Stuffing the wad into my pocket I turn to my adversary, and give her my award winning smile, resigning myself to the long afternoon that lay ahead of me. Thank God for Cialis, I realize, because this girl just doesn't do it for me anymore.

XXXXX

I supposed everything went well. I made Victoria moan, scream, and squirt three times. I played my part and came like a good boy, making it look like I was fulfilled and satiated by the time we left.

Victoria had stayed the fifteen minutes while I showered quickly so she could take me back to my vehicle. She scolded herself for not having the extra cash on hand so she could join me. I am glad she didn't, because I didn't want to have that conversation with her. The discussion that said, without a fucking doubt, "there is no goddamn way you are getting in the shower with me."

My car is only parked a couple of spots away from "the post" but I don't want her to know what I drive, so as we approach I tell her where she can let me out. We are just about there when I notice the Infiniti G-37.

_Fuck my luck._

I bend my head low as we are passing her car, but I notice that she is there, in it. _Waiting for me._ It is just my luck that Victoria parks in a spot directly in front of her with only one car in between. As soon as she stops I immediately go for the door handle, but Victoria waylays me.

"Baby, today was rreeeaaal good. You made up for last week. I'll see you next Friday okay?" She threads her fingers in my hair, and it takes everything in me not to jerk away from her and cringe in distaste.

I bid her a quick farewell and exit the vehicle. I approach Bella slowly; she is staring out the windshield with a blank look. It is so different from any other expression that I have ever seen on her face, and I don't like it. I lower my head in shame, but just for a moment because I come to the conclusion that this is my job, and she knows it, so what the fuck am I doing? I raise my head and continue to stride to her car with purpose.

I don't want to be misunderstood; it sure as shit, wouldn't have been my preference for Bella to see me as I am being dropped off. Hell, I wouldn't want that for any of my clients.

It ruins my portrayal of them thinking that they are my only one, that they are special in some way. My pretense is blown, and that is the _only reason_ I should be upset. None of them are stupid, they all know what I do, but it doesn't have to be shoved down their throat when they come to see me.

I have always scheduled my appointments to maintain that supposition.

The make believe world that I create where I give Bella the illusion that she is the only one has been destroyed this evening, and for that, _and_ _nothing else,_ will I be sorry for.

I slide in the passenger seat, attempting to convince myself of this. I try to come up with some light repartee; to act like this isn't incredibly awkward…to act like I didn't think it should bother her, but for the life of me I can't come up with one thing to say.

"Do you want me to come back some other time?" I barely hear her utter.

She can't even fucking look at me. Goddammit. I know that this isn't the most ideal situation, but I know if I tell her to come back some other time that she will have no intention of ever coming back.

To hell, if I will make it that easy for her.

"No." I look at her sharply, daring her to say what I know she is thinking. _Get out of my car you disgusting piece of shit._

If she's changed her mind, and doesn't want to see me than she will have to say it. If she wants to leave…if she doesn't want this than she is going to have the guts to tell me so.

To prove that I am not changing my mind I grab the money on her console and shove it in my pocket, waiting for the words.

I have to admit that I am shocked when she pulls away and heads toward the apartment. The ride is spent in brooding silence, neither one of us willing to speak out. I am angry, but mad at myself. Why can't I placate her…turn on the fucking charm? Where are all of the eloquent words? I dazzle women. I look into the side mirror at the scowl plastered on my face. What the fuck? Where are all of those disarming smiles and smoldering eyes? _Why can't I blow this off?_ I feel helpless, as I watch her mope.

I am so preoccupied that I don't remember getting in the elevator or getting to my door, but I have the key in the lock. As I open the door, Bella stomps past me, and heads directly for my room. Following behind her, I bow my head and suck in a large breath, exhaling slowly, trying unsuccessfully to calm my raging emotions so I can help her get over hers.

_How did this end up so fucked up, and how the hell do I fix it? _

I walk into my room and notice her angry stance, and flashing eyes. She is pissed, and fuck me, because I can't stop myself from being human. "Don't. Don't try to make me feel bad, it won't work. This is my job."

"I don't know what you're…" _Yeah, right!_ It's a little too late to act like, a silly little thing like me screwing another chick right before she picks me up doesn't bother her.

I want to scream. My frustration is mounting to the point of bursting.

"You aren't going to save me. I'm not changing for you or anyone else. I don't have to explain myself to you." She has to understand her place in this deal.

I had to understand my fucking place in this deal!

She charges up to me, a shaky smile on her face. "I know, I know. I am not trying to change you. I happen to like you just the way you are."

I suppress a shudder as she wraps her arms around me and pulls me into her embrace. I slowly put my arms around her and hold her to me. I can't believe this is real…that she still wants to touch me. I unconsciously hold her tighter, squeezing her to me, trying to fuse our bodies into one. I am having a hard time denying that I need more.

_Why can't I pretend around her?_ I feel like a lost boy, looking for his mother.

Shit. I have to clear my fucking head. My hair is probably still damp, but I wonder if she still sees me as dirty, knowing just where I came from. _Here_.

Unwillingly, I loosen my arms around her to attempt to give her, and myself, some peace of mind. "Do you mind if I take a quick shower?"

"No, go ahead. I have plenty of time." She says as she winks at me, which makes me grin like a fucking imbecile. It is obvious that she is just trying to put this fiasco behind us and start fresh.

Deciding that I need find some way to win her back over, I enter the steaming shower with a new attitude, because I am positive that if I don't fix this, it will be the last time that I will see her, and I am not ready to give her up just yet.

I rapidly soap myself down again while singing one of my favorite tunes. Leaving the shower I quickly slip on my boxers, and glance at myself in the mirror. Making sure I look presentable. I shrug, satisfied with my appearance. I know I am good looking, and in great shape. I've never disappointed a lady with my nakedness. However, I still have no idea how I managed to rope that little girl waiting for me in my room, but she is.

_So, why the hell am I in here?_

I pause at the door before I enter it. Sighing heavily, I hope I can make her forget our previous exchange. I will do everything in my power to make sure she wants to come back to me.

When I come in the room she is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Going for lightheartedness I scamper onto the other end of the mattress, and mirror her position.

"I think since you made me wait you owe me something." _Anything._

"I have questions for you."

I can't help the chuckle that escapes. "Surprise, surprise."

"I think I should get to ask five _personal_ questions." _Oh great._

Her first two are easy enough. For some reason, it doesn't bother me to divulge this information to Bella. I want her to know more about me. Well, I didn't just want to, it seems very important to me.

By the time, she makes it to her third question I am pretty pleased with the outcome. Her questions are personal, but they aren't deep. I avoid the questions about my band because I don't want her trying to find me in a personal setting…quite yet.

When her next question asks about my siblings I tell her that I have one sister. I can't speak of Claire, and if she decides to ask me anything further about her with her two remaining questions it would have definitely been a deal breaker for the night and possibly forever, so to avoid it, I tell her that I only have one.

Then she has to go and ask me why I do this line of work, and I have to become defensive again. I feel like I need to explain. I need her to understand, but in the end I just come off sounding like a defensive asshole.

Thankfully, she finishes her allotted personal questions by asking about Bruiser, and finally the buoyancy is restored. I cannot help but look relieved that she is done and I haven't caused her to bolt.

In fact she does the quite opposite as she leans in and surprises me by swiping her tongue across my shoulder. No fucking way I am not reciprocating that little action. It is my turn to lean into her, pushing her back on the bed gently as I flatten my tongue and lave it across the length of her neck, from her collarbone to her earlobe.

She immediately pushes herself back up and I take the opportunity to divest her of all of her clothing. I remove my boxers, displaying my rock hard boner.

I can't help but ogle her unabashedly for a few moments. She lies alluringly over my bed. Her silky chocolate tresses spread out over my pillow, her matching eyes are filled with desire, and her delectable lips parted, allowing for her shallow breaths.

_God, the unspeakable things I wanted to do to that mouth…_

I watch the creamy expanse of skin that covers the pulse point in her neck thumping roughly, and her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace. My gaze wanders over her luscious tits. I bend my head over one of those perfect mounds and suck her distended nipple into my mouth. Her back arches and she lets out a throaty moan. My nimble fingers attack her other nipple, pinching it and rolling it around my fingertips, as I assault the other with my lips and teeth.

She says my name on a breathless moan and I just about come undone right there. My stomach jumps from the tension, my fucking cock begging for release. I push two of my fingers into her wet cunt.

_So fucking hot._

I can smell her delicious aroma. I lick, nibble and kiss down her stomach to get a better whiff. Goddamn rules! Just one fucking taste, that is all I want.

_Ha. _One taste and I would be a fucking goner. She would have me by the balls. I would kill and die for her. I know it. I know if I let her in, I would do anything for her. I growl as the sexual frustration gets the better of me, and I bury my face in her stomach. I turn my head and rub my cheek along her soft supple skin. "You smell so fucking good." Well, _shit_. No fucking talking!

I realize now, that if I don't get to bend the rules a little, I will end up coming unglued and forget every single one of them all at once.

My desire to be vocal is unbearable. I want to tell her what I want to do to her, I want to tell her exactly how I will do it, but most of all I want to tell her what she does to me.

How she drives me insane with desire, how my cock throbs for hours when I lay in bed at night thinking about her, and how I want to bury myself in her heat and stay there forever.

I let out another agonized groan as I reluctantly slide back up her and ravish her perky tits, nipping and flicking her nipples, forcing her to be just as frustrated as I am. She must be getting there because she grasps my erection, pumping hard. _Jesus, fuck!_

It takes all my restraint not to pump my dick in and out of that tiny fist, ending this torment in a blissful explosion, but I won't be cumming first this time, I fucking promise. I grudgingly remove her hand from my aching cock.

"I'm not letting you get away with what you did last time." I grin at her when she tries to sulk. I turn her on her side so that I am spooning her backside. I nestle my dick right in her asscrack. Another fantasy comes to mind, but one that I can't pursue at this time. I catalog it for later contemplation and get back to the task at hand.

I bring my hand around her body and place my fingers back into the moist folds of her pussy, as the pad of my thumb massages her swollen clit. _So wet._ I circle my arm underneath her and continue my ministrations on those perky breasts.

I can't stand it anymore, her unique scent permeates the air and I have to know if her flavor is just as appetizing as her smell. I curl my fingers inside her and gather her juices, taking them out and spreading the sap across her shoulder blade before returning them to their rightful place inside her core. My nose skims over the damp area on her shoulder before I lick and suck on the wetness there.

There are just no words to describe how succulent she tastes. Better than I imagined…but I want more. I lick and suck feverishly, even after all traces are gone. Fuck! A starving man can't survive on one luscious strawberry alone. He needs to feast on the whole fucking field. _Goddammit_. I press my fingers into her hard as I suck on the skin of her shoulder until it is red and raw. This ignites her orgasm. My hips undulate against her ass as she rides out her climax.

Needing a release like there is no fucking tomorrow, I jump from the bed; my eager cock throbs as I try to hold it still to apply the condom.

I return to my previous position behind her and pull her leg up over my thighs. Knowing she is in a vulnerable position, and that it will leave her tender if I dive into her like I want to so desperately, I search for my reserve of patience and control.

My body's demands are put on the backburner temporarily as I make her comfort my first priority. I move slowly, at first, loving the feeling of being inside of her again. My nose is buried in the column of her neck. Sweat is clinging to her skin and dampening the roots of her hair, and moisture dripping in between her breasts. She is moaning thickly. She lifts her hand to the nape of my neck, and whispers my name seductively. Hanging onto my control by a thread, I start to pound into her. A surge of heat courses through me as I feel my stomach bobbing with the signs of an impending orgasm. The pressure of my balls tightening and cock twitching in her pussy makes my eyes squeeze shut as intense pleasure washes over me in tidal waves.

_Oh God._ Her walls begin to compress on my dick, shooting a tingling sensation down my legs, causing my motions to become choppy and erratic. Both of our breathing is labored and my heart feels like it is going to come out of my chest.

I am about to explode inside of her. I can't think anymore, I know nothing. Seeking sweet bliss, the pressure builds to a level of insanity. My hand automatically grips her hip in a way that I know will leave a mark, and my other hand grasps her hair roughly as I arch her neck back. Her walls convulse around me and I let out a roar as I bite down on her neck. My eyes pinch shut, my body stiffens and shudders as I ride out wave after wave of the most concentrated orgasm of my life.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Fucking astonishing.

I wrap my arms around her, and we lay like that until we can breathe normally again.

I am confused when I feel her shaking. Is she crying? I can't blame her, I'd cry too - if I could. Each encounter with her is getting more potent. Each orgasm is more powerful. Each touch is more forceful. Each look is more intense.

Instead her head falls back on my shoulder and she lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "You bit me!"

Embarrassed, I hide my head into her shoulder, but loving the feeling that ran through my body as I press her laughing, naked body tighter to me.

I always wondered what people had meant when they say "it feels like home". If "home" actually has a feeling, what did it _feel_ like?

Now I know. It is right here.

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**AN: So I have a new Bella and Jasper moment coming up next. I'll let you know what it is in advance if you would be so kind as to review. I also have another surprise I will let you in on, as well. So please tell me what you think so far. You know I get pumped up by everything you guys say.**

**Also, in case you didn't read it previously, you can read Finding Relief's chapter 12 if you want a more detailed version of the dialogue relating to the questions she asked Jasper in this chapter. Jasper just summarized this part.**


	10. Just Like A BandAid

**AN: Sorry about the wait! I have been battling with a seasonal illness for the past week.**

**On a lighter note, and speaking of talented writer's, Anglechoo just came out with a story like a week ago and she already has twelve, yes, twelve chapters posted. I am in love with this Jasper/Bella human story. I love and hate Jasper in this fic, check it out and decide for yourself. The story is called "Why Best Things Are Free".**

**As you know, once we decided that Jasper was going to have his own story I started leaving gaps in Bella's version. This is an extended version of a meeting that Bella just mentioned briefly in Chapter 14 of Finding Relief.**

**Thanks to QueenBeta Cullen818 for all of her help in 2009. Looking forward to the many things we can do in 2010.**

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"_**You sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." – J.K Rowling**_

**Chapter 10**

Several weeks have passed since I bit Bella, and since then, I have been seeing her once a week. I had chosen to give her my cell phone number after the altercation when she saw me with that bitch Victoria. To avoid the possibility of that ever happening again, I told Victoria I can only see her on Saturday's due to a change in my schedule. Surprisingly, she obliged without asking any questions.

It didn't take me long to figure out why that was.

That stupid cunt had shown up this afternoon, just as Leah was dropping me off from her afternoon appointment. Victoria was dead set on a confrontation and Leah had been, oh so, happy to oblige.

*flashback to the afternoon*

As Leah and I drive back from the past hour together, I wonder how in the hell things have gone so wrong with her. Leah used to be so sweet when I had started out with her, but in the past month she has changed drastically. Instead of only talking about her life, and engaging in lighthearted conversation, now she continually asks me every possible question about my own life. She barrages me with questions from the time that I enter her car until the time that I exit.

Her touches have become more possessive, and she tries to kiss me at least a dozen times each time I see her. But what freaks me out the most is that she is constantly staring at me. From pick up to drop off, I am constantly aware that she is watching me. Her eyes always seem to be searching mine…for something. During sex her eyes are intent on mine. I try to keep eye contact, but frankly it gives me the willies, and I end up burying my face in her neck just to get away from that stare.

I honestly don't know what else I can possibly say or do to make her realize that the only bond we share is purely business. Every time her questions become personal - I remind her that I don't answer anything regarding my private life, every time she touches me or gazes at me in a reverent sort of way, I play it off by remaining stoic and unaffected. I try to convey through every act that this is nothing more than a transaction.

I touch her where she wants to be touched, I kiss her where I know she receives maximum pleasure, I perform all of the idiosyncrasies that I know her to enjoy, but I do it all with professionalism, and as little emotion as possible. I smile at her as I would a dentist to a patient after he had pulled a tooth that had been causing pain.

I have performed a duty, and am happy that I can relieve the pressure, but that is as far as it goes. But even that is starting to become an act. I don't receive the gratification that I once had after seeing a woman satisfied. It had always been like a drug to me that these women could justify such a large expense just to be with me for such a short time, but I am sinking from that high. Not only do I find it unsatisfying, but it is on the verge of being repulsive.

I sigh. _What else is there?_ It seems as though my thoughts are continuously moving in a hellish, vicious circle; a never ending rotation of unanswerable questions. It is a ring of restlessness and discontent, circling ominously, with no sign of abatement. I know that Rosalie is responsible. She comes over on her high horse, spouting off all of her ideas on how my life could be so much better, making me think and wish that she could be right.

"Where are you honey?" Leah asks, as she waves her manicured hand in front of my face before laying it on my thigh. As usual, she is gazing at me adoringly, while peering at the road occasionally.

_I can't do this anymore._ The thought is fleeting, and I push it away immediately. The fuck I can't. I have to. This is all I have. If I don't do this, I have nothing. With this, I have something to look forward to. I have a schedule to work around, appointments to attend to, a job to perform. A job I am damn good at, by the way. Even Bella would agree with that. I smile at that thought. Ahh…tonight…the fucking highlight of my week.

Leah shakes me out of my reverie again. This time she has a smile on her face too, probably as a result from seeing my huge ass grin while I think about the evening to come.

"Are you thinking about our afternoon romp? It was wonderful wasn't it?" She sighs happily.

_Completely fucking clueless._

It takes nearly all my restraint not to display my insurmountable annoyance. Is she in complete denial? What I want to know is what the hell changed? I try to think back to when her attitude altered, but then decide quickly enough that I don't have the time, or the inclination to dwell on something so inane. So instead, I turn to give her my fakest, warmest smile and say, "Of course, Leah."

The fact is: She is still a client, and so I act accordingly.

She pulls to the side of the road, and I already have the door open, ready to make my escape. I turn to tell her a quick goodbye, and to see if we are still on for the same time next week when she leans in quickly for her customary attempt at a kiss. I turn my face away just in time, as she plants a wet one on my jaw.

_Goddammit_.

I finally decide to put this shit to rest.

Because I am rapidly thinking of the most delicate, but forceful way to tell her to stop her futile endeavors to make something personal out of our "relationship", and that she will not succeed, I don't notice Victoria approach the car and poke her head in the door that I already have open.

"So, is this the ugly bitch I had to give up my night for?" _Fuck my fucking useless life_.

I jump out of the car and grab Victoria, intent on removing her from Leah's hearing distance, but that doesn't work for Leah. She flies out of the car, and is over to us in a millisecond. Apparently, Leah isn't scared of a few extra inches.

Victoria towers over Leah, but she doesn't back down. I stand frozen, quite amazed at Leah's tenacity and bravery. She stands her ground, going toe to toe with the red-haired witch. I think that throws Victoria through a loop momentarily, giving Leah the edge in this, so far, verbal combat.

"You bet your pink little ass that he'd prefer me over your freckled, fire crotch." Leah sneers. I watch as Victoria's face turns bright red in anger, ready to explode. Knowing that I need to act fast to diffuse the situation, and discourage the crowd that is beginning to form in the hopes of catching a good catfight, I step between the two of them with my arms wide, separating them as far as the length of each of my arms can stretch. I try to come up with a diplomatic approach. It doesn't take long to realize to maintain order I will have to come up with something that will take their attention off of each other.

Hoping that the use of a shortened name would help, I start, "no, Vicki, you usually come a little later, but I started attending school and I have a class tonight." Both of their fierce expressions change to one of curiosity. Their glares soften as they turn their faces to me.

_It is something personal_, something I would never divulge in a normal situation, and even though it is a lie, I'm pissed that I have to make a concession, because they decide to act like spoiled children.

Both of their stances relax and I know that I need to get Leah back into her car. I clutch her arm and lead her to the driver's door; she is slightly dazed, still considering the new information that she, now, has on me. I tuck her into the driver's seat and, not wanting to give Victoria any more ammunition, I give Leah a quick pat on the shoulder, whispering, "I'll see you next week. Call me okay?" She gives me a sincere smile and nods. She takes off, leaving me with Victoria.

I hear a few boos from the shrinking crowd, as they show their exasperation for me taking away a source of free entertainment for them. A few people still hang around anticipating more venom from the red head. When Victoria smiles at me guiltily, the remaining witnesses shake their head in disappointment before turning to pursue their original purposes.

I approach Victoria, battling down the urge to tell her off. I want to tell her in detail exactly what she means to me and that her outburst was not only childish, but uncalled for. Instead I choose the fastest way that I can remove myself from her presence. I know it isn't the right way to handle this; she shouldn't get away with what she had just done, and I fear that only bad things can come from not nipping this issue in the bud, pronto, but, at that moment, I just need to get away from her.

I see Bella tonight and I have things to do beforehand. Having it out with Victoria is not on my list of things to do. However, I vow to myself that I will take this up with Victoria at our next appointment. For now, I make the decision to take the easy way out.

I tsk at her, "Victoria, now that wasn't very nice of you." I talk in a low voice, one she can easily misconstrue as seductive…and, of course, she does.

"Are you going to punish me for it?" She says, fingering the collar of my shirt.

"I sure am." I say quietly. She smiles, and licks her lips in a pseudo erotic way. I keep my revulsion carefully hidden, as I return her smile.

"Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow then." She winks and takes off in the direction of her Cadillac.

When she is out of sight I pull my hands roughly through my hair.

_What the fuck is going on here?_ The only situation for which I formerly had any control over is now going haywire, while I stand by and watch.

*end of flashback*

Thankfully, Bella hadn't been around to witness that confrontation. She will be here later than usual tonight due to a dinner she is having with her dad, Charlie.

What I hate hearing from other girls, I love hearing from Bella. Whenever Bella plans on being late or can't make the scheduled time, she gives me detailed reasons for the cause. Not only did I know that she is having dinner with her dad tonight, or that his name is Charlie, I know where they are eating, and what time that they are meeting. As she rambled, she even told me what she is wearing, and what she planned on eating while she was out. I stay silent, just soaking it up like a sponge…every word. It is never TMI. I want to know everything.

I am also relieved that I told Bella to start meeting me directly at the apartment. It fills me with a tremendous amount of relief to know that scenes like today will be avoided with her.

My nights with Bella are fucking amazing. When I am with her I can't seem to ever get enough, and when I am not with her, I can't stop thinking about the next time we'll be together. I know that this is not meant to last, and that thought always prevents me from being as happy as I could be. The fear looms that she is going to eventually break me. My feelings for her are getting stronger, and I feel the inevitable pain that will come from her departure from my life. I realize now that it is too late; backing out now will not lessen the agony that hangs over my head gloomily as I wait for the imminent goodbye.

She is becoming an open book to me. Every touch, every expression, every word, nuance and moan brings out another aspect of her personality, and I like every part. She is kind, gentle, caring, funny, endearing, passionate, responsive, and downright loveable. Not only that, but we have so much in common. Based on the little information that she shares with me I know we would be a perfect match. If only, things were different. If only…

I don't know her situation, but how much longer can she rationalize the merits of being with a prostitute? She has to know that this will end, I am positive of this. What I would really like to know is if she has an actual date in mind. Does she already have a plan to extricate myself from her life at some definite point? Does she know exactly how much longer she will be requesting my company? I am certain this must be something that crosses her mind on a daily basis.

I dally around the apartment, including concocting a pot of Grandma Hale's homemade beef stew. The family recipes are one of the few things that I took from my parent's house after the car accident. The stew had been one of my favorites as a child, and James happen to love it too. I make sure that I prepare enough for us both to eat for the next couple of nights.

James is almost at one hundred percent now, and is currently back to work. He has resumed his on and off again relationship with that slut, Carrie. Their relationship has always been volatile and apparently nothing is going to change in that regard. They fight constantly, and I am almost sure that they actually prefer it that way.

Unfortunately, I am aware of their penchant for angry sex. They take their arguments into the bedroom and the loud crashes and bangs coming from behind the closed door are proof of that. They usually emerge in silence, preferring to bask in the afterglow of their fucking without the imminent possibility of another altercation as soon as words are spoken. Ultimately, their relationship works for both of them, and I assume that is why James always takes her back. To each, their own, I suppose.

Because of this reconciliation we see very little of Jessica. I like to think that is what causes some of James' sour moods, but who can really know for sure? Every time I bring Jessica up in a conversation I notice that James will stare off into space for a moment, but I find that if I push too far he will completely close up, acting as if it doesn't bother him in the least that she hasn't come around. I know James will never readily confirm my suspicions of his deeper feelings for Jessica…if they really do exist.

Nervously pacing around the small apartment as I wait for Bella, I wander aimlessly into my room. I open the dresser drawer to look at my finished product for the umpteenth time. It is perfect, but will this be the week I actually give it to her? I have been holding onto it for several weeks waiting for the opportunity to bestow my handiwork upon her.

_A list of my services. _

I never forgot that she had asked if I had a list of my services that she could peruse. I know that she was only joking, and this really is just for laughs, but it is something that I spent several hours creating; from the words, and the prices, to the materials for which it is printed on. I spent hours on the details; fonts, type and pigment of paper, etc. I definitely had taken special care in constructing this memento of our time together. I had it ready weeks ago, but I have yet to present it to her.

The fact of the matter is that I am scared. It is as simple as that. What if she doesn't want it? What if she laughs in my face? What if she just tosses it aside? Can I watch that without showing any emotion? I don't think so, but deep down, I know she would never do that. Even if she doesn't want it, she is way too considerate to throw the gesture back in my face.

I convince myself that I am going to give it to her tonight. I refuse to change my mind. I decide the best course of action will be to play it off as a joke, and then feed off of her reaction.

I grow more agitated as the hour becomes closer. In order to calm myself, I turn on an old episode of "Cold Case" and grab a bowl of ice cream that I bought last week.

Good, old fashioned, French Vanilla ice cream is a guilty pleasure of mine. I drizzle some Hershey's chocolate syrup on it, and plop down in front of the TV. Not five minutes later the buzzer rings indicating my evening appointment has arrived.

I buzz her in and turn off the TV, putting my half eaten bowl of ice cream in the sink. I pace for the two minutes that it takes for her to knock lightly. I open the door, and the sight of her makes me grin happily. I can't help it. I can't ever help it. She just makes my fucking day.

She smiles crookedly at me, and I get a fleeting hope that she is just as happy to see me. Her eyes scan down my form before she looks back at me curiously. The stupid grin still plastered on my face.

"What is up with you?" She smirks, as she walks in, and sets her things down on the living room sofa, dropping the money on the side table.

When she turns back around to look at me questioningly, I decide that this has to be like pulling off a band-aid, so before I can change my mind I blurt…maybe to excitedly, "I have something for you."

She follows behind me as I make my way down the hall to my room. I turn my back to her and open my dresser. I inhale a large breath and exhale on a sigh, as I gather my courage.

_Just like a band-aid._

I pull the card from the drawer, pivot around and thrust it at her. She looks up at me with quizzical, but smiling eyes, and lets out a giggle; I am sure at my ridiculous behavior. She glances down to see what I have given her.

It seems like she is staring at it forever. _Just take the goddamn thing_.

Her eyes flicker back to mine for a second before she takes it from my hands, and turns it over to see the script. She gasps when she realizes what it is. Her hands tighten on it, but she doesn't look up, so I can't see her eyes; the most telling feature about her.

_Look at me._

She doesn't look at me, but her actions speak for themselves. She practically jumps on me as we fall to the bed. I laugh as her attack leaves me sprawled out on the bed with her on top.

I have to know. I pull her head from my shoulder. Both my hands dive into the mass of mahogany strands, trying to remove it from my view, so I can see her beautiful face, and those soulful eyes.

What I see would have made me crumble to the floor had I been standing.

She has a small smile playing on her lips. Lips I want more than anything to devour right this minute, but what has me gasping is the look in her eyes. Her wet lashes hover over chocolate orbs so full of desire, and something else that I recognize, but don't remember where I'd seen it previously. I'd gladly give my last breath to know.

I roll her over gently, laying atop her, pressing her small frame into the mattress. I absorb her heat, as my arms snake around her, holding her closely. My lips ghost over her jaw line, tracing the delicate lines with my mouth, while I stare at her. Afraid that I might be turning into Leah, I bury my face in her neck to avoid looking at her for the time being.

It is my job, to know the ins and outs of my clients. What gives each of them the utmost pleasure, but the difference between doing this with Bella, and any other client is the feelings that it brings out in _me_. There are no reactive feelings when I do these things to others, but with Bella, I feel everything she feels.

I explore this theory. I shift my weight so that I am only half atop her, as my tongue and teeth suck and nip at the skin just below her ear. I do this because I know that it will produce a moan. As if on cue, she elicits a throaty cry, as I attack the effective area. So, in turn, my body tenses in the most delicious of ways. Ways that I have never experienced before.

I switch sides on her neck, and the hand that I am not leaning on runs back and forth across the sliver of skin exposed at the top of her jeans, as her shirt rides slightly up her body. I know that she loves when I do this, and sure enough I feel her shiver against me. In reaction, a crashing heat envelopes my entire body, breaking out a light sheen of sweat across my torso.

My hand travels to her jean clad thigh. I grip it and drag my hand roughly toward her center. When I get to that point, I palm her covered pussy, and squeeze gently. I know this drives her crazy, and as expected, her back arches off the bed, but what never fails to surprise me is the heartfelt groan that I can't contain. It escapes as a ragged "Bella" through my lips.

Just as I suspected; I am just as affected as Bella.

Deciding that we can have more fun with our clothes off, I raise myself from the bed, taking Bella with me. I grab the hem of my t-shirt, and pull it over my head, but before I can get to her, Bella slowly peels her own shirt off, watching me the entire time…and it is fucking HOT.

I don't understand why she is always trying to turn me on. Apparently, she isn't aware that I am set at full throttle as soon as she walks through my door. I release the button on my jeans, and glance up at her. I raise my brow in question, because she is just standing there.

She unbuttons her jeans, and nothing else; her lips quirk up at the corner. It appears that she has made up her mind to play a game of "Monkey See, Monkey Do" with me.

_I'm game._

I smirk, letting her know I have caught on to her playfulness. Her smile broadens in acknowledgement, and so we find ourselves just smiling at one another.

After several moments of just enjoying each others presence she nods her head slightly, telling me she is ready to resume our play, and that it is my turn.

I gently work my zipper down and shimmy my jeans down my legs. For some reason, I know that Bella, consciously or unconsciously, is infatuated with my thighs. As anticipated, she openly gawks at my newly uncovered skin.

And my reaction? A mixture of goose bumps, accompanied with an accelerated heart rate and a very prominent twitch from the already massive bulge in my loose fitting boxers.

Watching Bella lower her jeans, inch by slow inch, makes my stomach muscles jump and then clench. Fuck, she is exquisite. The soft light from the lamp bounces off of her skin, giving it a subtle glow as she stands before me in a pale yellow bra and panties. She is the epitome of a modern day Aphrodite.

Glancing down at her feet, I notice her, very out of place, white tube socks, and I chuckle. The noise seems foreign in such a sexually charged atmosphere, but when she looks down at her own feet and wiggles her toes, she peeks up, keeping her head bent. She has a shine in her eyes and a mischievous smile on her lips. She takes my breath away. She is so innocently erotic.

She lifts her head, with a wicked little grin on her face. She looks pointedly at my boxers, waiting for me to continue. Once I release the waistband from my, ever increasing, hard on they fall to the floor. Bella's panties aren't as easily removed. She pushes them down her sculpted thighs over her lean calves until they are sitting at her ankles. She pulls herself up erect from her previously bent position and kicks the panties off.

_Wow. There is just no fucking words._

Since we started this game, the first words are finally spoken. "It seems like I started out with a few less garments than you." I take the necessary steps to get to her. I turn her around so I am standing behind her. "Let me help you with the rest of yours." I whisper in her ear.

After I unhook her bra, both of my hands fall on her shoulders as I push the straps slowly over her arms. Her breath is shallow, making mine equally as dense. After the bra has fallen to the ground I lay one of my hands on her hip, as I use the other to move all of her hair to one shoulder.

I place hot kisses along the bare shoulder and work my way up her neck, tasting her. My thumb makes slow circles on her hipbone as the other tickles along her ribcage, making a trail to her luscious breast. I palm her tit, gently kneading it in my hand. Her head falls back onto my chest, and I can see that her eyes are shut and her lips form an "O".

I continue manipulating her nipple with my thumb and forefinger as my other hand makes my way down to her womanhood. I press my fingertips into her mound, inserting one of my fingers into her wet warmth.

_She is always so ready for me. _

She immediately gyrates against my palm, and likewise, my hips undulate against the small of her back.

We continue to do this for several moments; I grind against her backside as she fucks my finger. Both of our breaths are coming out in pants and our movements become more erratic. My dick throbs, and the pain is intense, as I sense her climax approaching. My restraint is thoroughly being tested. I know a few more strokes along her back will lead me to spiral into my own release, so I pull her to me, my arm falls around her like a manacle, trapping her against my body. I push my thumb into her clit, circling over it in a flurry of whispering touches. It only takes about half of a minute before she cums around my finger.

I hold her through her orgasm, and when I am satisfied that she has had an adequate amount of recovery time, I turn her quickly around to face me, and start to back her into the bed. She deters me by stepping out of my arms. I try to focus on what she is doing, but I can hardly think, I am so in need. I turn around to find her shutting my dresser drawer with a condom stuck between her teeth. She rips it open and falls to her knees in front of me. Evidently, I am not the only one in need.

She rolls the condom on my cock with expertise. She has insisted on applying it at each of our visits, so what started out as awkward and fumbling has now become quick and agile.

With the condom now in place, she stands up, and pushes me back onto the bed. She crawls up my body, kissing everything in her wake, but of course, avoiding my dick. However, it doesn't stop her from fisting and pumping it while her mouth continues its exploration. I growl as her teeth make gentle nips along my hipbone.

Without permission, my hips buck into her fist over and over again, fucking her hand superbly. Does she think that I am a machine? I can only hold out for so long.

I growl once again as her downward strokes, allow two fingers to massage my balls at each pass. My belly tightens, and I know I have to get inside her. I roll her over and take one of her breasts in my mouth, sucking the nipple hard between my lips; flicking it over and over again with my tongue. This causes her to push her hot, wet pussy into my engorged cock, eliciting a moan from each of us.

I attack her collarbone, while she positions me at her entrance.

It is then that I realize something. I boast about knowing Bella, and what it takes to please her, but she is just as skilled. In the time we have been together she has managed to learn just the right places to kiss me, where to touch me…how to touch me. She has effectively mastered my body, just as I have hers. It makes my heart swell to know that she cares enough to take the time to learn what turns me on.

I hold my torso up by my arms, and watch her as I penetrate, pressing into her molten heat. She tightens around my shaft instantly, and I know it won't be long for her either. I develop a steady rhythm of slow rocking, then switch to faster beats, only to return to the slow, long, heavy strokes; taking myself completely out, inch by inch, before sinking just as slowly back in. I am torturing us both, I know. The pressure builds to a point of in-fucking-sanity.

I gaze down into her face, as I continue to pump into her, her eyes are squeezed shut, but I wish they were opened, looking at me.

Seemingly, tired of my antics, she growls out her frustration, and pushes herself up to take my nipple and ring into her mouth. She bites down gently and that is all it takes…but knowing me like she did, she fucking knows what would happen. Without warning, my balls tighten and a searing heat travels through my stomach, and down my stiffened legs.

I roar out my pleasure as I feel each stream of cum shoot into the condom. In the midst of my own ecstasy I hear Bella cry out as she clenches around my exploding cock. My satiated body hangs listlessly. My head is between my shoulders, as I try to control my harsh breathing. I can feel the beads of sweat drip down my face as my heart pounds furiously in my chest. I lift up my head to look down at her, and I find her looking at me in the manner that she had before, but this time a similar instance flashes in my head and I recognize where I saw that look before.

It was the way my mom used to look at me, and I cherished it. It was also the way Leah had just begun looking at me recently, and I hated it.

_Love. _

_Honest love. Not sexual. Actual love. Could it possibly be? _

_There is just no fucking way…_

…_right? _

I squelch some of the hope, but not all. It is the first time I allow myself to complete the thought.

_I want Bella to love me._

But to what end? I have no idea. What will it accomplish if she did? I don't know that either. I just know that I want it real bad.

I pull up, and then out of her. Disposing of the condom in the bedside trash bin, I return to the bed, lying on my side, next to her. I start laughing when I realize that she still has her socks on, she looks down to see what I am laughing at and she blushes.

"Oh yeah, you think that is funny? Well, what about this?" She reaches around me, and I hear a sound, as well as a small stinging sensation on my back. She brings her hand around and the menu I made for her is in her hand. I guess after she laid it on the bed, it stuck to my back. It is my turn to blush. She covers her mouth and giggles.

It is the cutest fucking thing I ever saw.

XXXXX

In the shower, I think about when Bella had left. She had the menu grasped to her chest, and she had the biggest smile on her face. I never felt as complete as I do with her.

But as in all the good things that have ever happened to me, my thoughts became spoiled when reality interferes. One day, I won't have Bella and what will I be left with? The thought is frightening. I can either sit and wait for the inevitable to happen, or I can do something about it.

What choice is there, really?

But can I do it? Can I give up my Bella?

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**AN: So what did you think? Please let me know.**

**Happy New Year everyone! **


	11. Wizard of Odd

**AN: Ok, I am only a couple of days late. This chapter was really hard for me and it is definitely different! This isn't going to be anybody's favorite chapter, but it needed to be done. **

**I can say that this is probably the last chapter that sets up the background for Jasper's story, as his story is really just beginning. The next chapters will be easier, which means that I will HOPEFULLY get them out faster.**

**I want to thank everyone so much for all of your support, it means the world to me. **

**QueenBeta Cullen818 has skills…check out her stories and see for yourself.**

**I don't own Twilight or any of it's characters.**

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"_**Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you." - Marsha Norman**_

**Chapter 11 – Wizard of Odd**

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Just look at it."

"NO! Back, the fuck, off! If I wanted your advice I would ask for it." I growl in frustration, wanting to bang my head on the table, again and again. There is only one person that I know of that can inspire this much anger in me with so little effort.

Rosalie sits across the table, undeterred by my little tantrum. She glares at me, and pushes the booklet back on my side of the table.

_Why the fuck did I agree to go out for coffee with her? _

Probably because James and Carrie just had a huge fight, and I couldn't stand the screaming and yelling…not from the fight, but from the make-up sex. Ick. When I got the text from Rosalie I jumped at the excuse, even though I really didn't understand why I needed one.

We stare at each other, both of us too stubborn, and unwilling to relent. We had stare-off's as children and I very, very seldom won. As a matter of fact, I can probably count my victories on one hand, but we are older now, and I feel the odds are now in my favor.

After a few minutes, which pass by like freaking hours, I surrender yet again. How can I compete with an ice queen? If any person has less emotion than me, it is Rosalie. We are the products of a family torn apart by one tragic and traumatic event. It is hard to "feel" after you've been through as much as I have.

I grab the course selection book from The Eastern Michigan University, and put it on the seat next to me. "I might look at it when I get home." I say, sniffing like a petulant child, which happens to be another redeeming quality that Rosalie seems to stir in me. Infantile behavior. I know exactly when I start to act like a brat around her, but I can't seem to abandon the unseemly conduct, and it aggravates me to no end. I feel like she is winning and I have to remind myself constantly that this is not a game and that we are both mature adults.

It doesn't stop me from wanting to stick my tongue out at her though. To stop myself I bite down hard on my tongue.

Rosalie rolls her eyes at my suggestion, knowing full well that I just plan on throwing it away at the first possible opportunity. "C'mon, Jazz, I want to look at it together. I can help you pick some classes. I know a lot of the teachers…the good, the bad and the ugly. I can help you make sure that you don't end up in any of the bad ones…or the ugly ones." She adds with a smirk.

Rosalie has been attending EMU for the last two years. It is close and I know that it would be a good place to start, if that is what I wanted. If I find it to my liking I could always transfer to a bigger school like Michigan State later. God, I am not even sure why I am even thinking about this. I really don't want to go back to school, and I have no intention of doing so, but Rosalie puts these goddamn ideas in my head.

I just can't understand why Rosalie is so interested in my life all of a sudden. Why does she feel she has been appointed as my rescuer? I wouldn't mind hanging out with Rosalie once in a while, if she wasn't always riding my fucking ass about everything I do. I realize that my life wouldn't work for most people, but I deal with it pretty well.

"Rose, why can't you just be satisfied that I am happy?"

"Well, I would be satisfied if you were, but you're not. I know you don't think I know you Jazz, but I do. You want more, I can see it. Why won't you even consider school? Is it James?" Her cheeks turn red and her eyes flash with anger. "That motherfucker is holding you back, Jazz. Why can't you fucking see what is right in front of your face?" Immediately she holds out her hands to stop me from giving her a well deserved piece of my mind.

"Jazz, I know he cares for you in his own fucked up way. I know that he was there for you when you felt like you had no one." She concedes.

"He WAS the only one." I correct her.

She huffs. "Maybe. But it doesn't mean you need to sacrifice the rest of your life for him."

"I. Am. Not. I am living _MY_ life the way that _I_ want to."

She opens her mouth to speak. "Subject fucking closed Rosalie." She shuts her mouth with an audible snap.

I won that battle; however, I didn't feel confident about the war.

Rosalie would have been happy to know that I spent the ride home in contemplation.

Hypothetically speaking, I know if I started school what that would mean for me, because I won't do it halfway…it is all or nothing. It means giving up my current lifestyle.

I won't leave James…at least, not immediately, but I can't be pulled into any of his latest antics; at least anything of the illegal or immoral nature. I briefly wonder if James can be led to a different kind of high, preferably ones that won't land us in jail or in need of his dad's extensive contacts to keep us from landing there.

There are pursuits like skydiving, bungee jumping, or mountain climbing. Good, honest, exhilarating, death defying fun. Could I convince James that he didn't have to cause trouble to find life exciting and worth living? It seems an impossible task.

The decision to go back to school would also mean that I'd have to tell my clients that I am retiring from the business…including Bella.

Bella would be happy that I was going to get my life together. I have a feeling that she would want that for me. Even if that meant that she would have to find her entertainment elsewhere.

The thought of Bella going to someone else makes my stomach clench. Thinking about her sweet little body underneath some other gigolo, or…fuck, James for that matter, makes my blood boil. The visual of her putting her soft little hand on James bare chest, while he leans down to kiss her pouty bottom lip…_because James lets his fucking clients kiss him_…feels like my chest is in a vice. I can't breathe.

It isn't unlike James to come home and tell me all about his conquests, especially the good ones, so I know if he were to ever be graced with Bella's company I would have to hear every fucking detail about their encounter.

I know I am worrying myself in that regard for nothing. If I tell James to steer clear from her, there is no doubt in my mind that he will. I also know in my heart that when I stop seeing Bella she will not be searching for another of my kind. I am an anomaly to her, something that would have never happened to her if we both hadn't been in exactly that place, at exactly that time. I am positive that if our paths had crossed anytime before or after that moment we would have the type of arrangement we have now.

I pull into our driveway and slam my fists onto the steering wheel. This is so frustrating. Why can't I make a goddamn decision about my life? Rosalie is right, I am not completely happy. I haven't been for some time. I am antsy and I need a change, but I just don't know how to go about it. It is just too overwhelming. There are so many things to change; I don't know where to start.

My life is such a clusterfuck of meaningless dalliances, fragile friendships, bad decisions, and pointless endeavors. The only things worthwhile that exist in my life is a strong camaraderie with a fuck up, a sister that tries to push me around, and a girl that pays me to fuck her thoroughly once a week. If that wasn't so fucking sad, it would be hilarious.

When I get in the house I see James is in front of the TV playing Halo. He pauses the game when he hears me set my keys down.

"Hey, man. Where'd you go?" He looks sheepish, like he knows exactly why I left. I don't see the whore around so my mood peaks.

"I met Rosalie for coffee." I answer, shrugging. He eyes the booklet that I set down next to my keys.

"What is she trying to sign you up for now? Cult, maybe? Church?" He laughs, finding that very funny.

I used to believe in God. I think I still do, but after he took my four year old sister from my family…from me, I'm just not sure I want anything to do with Him anymore.

"No, she wants me to sign up for some classes at EMU." I look at the paused TV rather than look at James.

"Why would she want you to do that?" He questions.

"I don't know James, maybe to better myself." I say sarcastically.

He snorts as he trots passed me to go into the kitchen with his empty glass. He stops in front of me, and turns on his own sarcasm. "Now, how could _you_ possibly get any better? I thought you were already perfect." He flicks at one of the curls hanging across my forehead, and walks off toward the kitchen snickering.

He refills his glass with Pepsi and sits back in front of the TV. "You playin'?"

"No, I'll just watch." We sit in comfortable silence as he maneuveres his way through the screens. I pretend to watch, but my thoughts and eyes keep flickering to the cursed course selection booklet that Rosalie bestowed upon me.

_Why haven't I thrown that away yet?_

"James? Why don't we take a few classes for the fun of it?" _Where did that come from?_

He pauses the game again, and stares at me like I asked him to murder someone for me…no, actually, he would have been more receptive to that idea than he would be to going back to school.

_Why was he so against this?_

"For the _fun_ of it? Seriously? Jazz…we already did the school thing… remember? We were bored out of our minds. We did anything to find trouble because we were both ready to pull our hair out. We didn't like school…or am I mistaken?" He looks at me questioningly. "Did I misinterpret your actions Jazz? Was all the drugs you took, and the classes that you skipped, and flunked out of, because school was so fucking interesting and exciting?"

His expression changes to one of forced patience, and he sighs. "Look Jazz, I just don't think it is necessary…you are already smart. You're one of the smartest people I know. You have enough money to be, and have, whatever you want. Why waste time in school when you already have the world at your fingertips?" He turns back on the game, effectively ending the conversation.

Maybe he's right. I hated school. I not only participated in the extra-curricular activities that James mentioned, but I instigated some of them…just so we could get through the tedium of classes.

_He is right._ I take one last wistful look at the brochure lying beside my keys before I turn back to James. I slide off of the sofa, and land on the floor next to him. "Scoot over butt wipe, I am sick of watching you suck at this game. Let me teach you how to play, little boy."

James smiles wickedly at me as he hands me the other controller. As I give him his lesson I can't help but notice that his eyes fall on me quite often.

I wish I had an answer to his silent question, but I don't know it. What the hell _is_ wrong with me?

XXXXX

I wake up the next morning with sweat pouring down my body, wondering somehow if I made it back to Kansas. I laughed out loud. Yeah, Kansas. What a crazy ass dream.

My dream had been a giant twister, consisting of everyone currently making an impact in my life. They had all played their parts.

The bizarre dream started out with Claire and I sitting on the couch in our old house. I was at my current age and Claire was still four. She was tucked in the crook of my arm and we were watching the Wizard of Oz, dozing off into a comfortable sleep. My mom came in the room and covered us in a warm afghan that my grandma Hale had made for me when I was born.

My dad came to stand next to my mom, and they hovered over us with smiles on their faces, as they told us how much they loved us. Then, suddenly their smiles had turned to frowns, as lines of worry were etched in their brows. They kept repeating for us to be careful, and to please return Claire to them as soon as possible. I had no idea what they were talking about. Just when I was about to question them a strong wind tore through the house.

I couldn't see anything as Claire and I were lifted by the couch and spun repeatedly, caught in a whirlwind. We held each other tightly as the storm played out around us. Finally, the storm subsided and with eyes shut, I thought I was finally waking up. I laid there for a moment before I opened my eyes, trying to find the hidden meaning behind what had just happened, but when I opened my eyes Claire was still with me, sleeping soundly. Seeing that the dream had apparently continued I took in the setting.

We were still on the couch, but our surroundings were completely different. We were no longer in my childhood home but, it looked like we had landed in a field of poppies, daisies and other various wildflowers. If it wasn't weird enough the whole atmosphere was just…different. It was too bright, everything had too much color. Almost as though we were living in a cartoon.

_What the fuck?_

"Jazzy" Claire admonished, with her hand covering her mouth. _Oh, I had said that out loud_. Claire awoke next to me and stared in awe at the place we had momentarily inhabited.

Through the fields I could see little heads pop up with eyes as wide as saucers. Unconsciously, I had moved closer to Claire, ready to protect her if necessary. Claire had noticed and hardly looked worried.

"Sorry, seed." I beseeched. She smiled contentedly and clutched my hand.

"Let's go Jazzy." She pointed to the side. I looked beyond her to where she was pointing, there had been a road made of pure gold.

_Well, fuck me, I was in Oz._

I had decided to play along, instead of forcing myself awake, because I wanted to spend some happy time with Claire. Claire had only, previously, made an appearance in my nightmares and I relished the thought of being able to smile and laugh with her, if for just a little while.

Claire, had played Toto in this rendition of the Wizard of Oz, I held onto her the whole dream. She continued to stand beside me, skipping sometimes, there was such joy and happiness bubbling from her as we made our way together down the yellow brick road, trying to find the wizard so we could get back home to Mom and Dad. I don't remember the last time I felt that happy and content. Claire's little hand in mine gave me peace. Something that was scarce in my life now.

First, we ran into Jessica. How fitting for Jessica to be the scarecrow. She trailed along with us, hoping to get the brain she so desired, and as far as I was concerned, so needed. She had been mainly silent. She just hung in there, following us without question. She was not prominent…just there. Most of my dream she was never visible, but I just had the feeling that she was there.

Second, and unexpectedly, we met up with Leah. Leah was the lion looking for courage. Courage for what I had no idea. I didn't ask, and she didn't tell. I kept our relationship the same, not answering or asking questions that were too personal. She was unusually quiet as she walked next to me, faltering a step back every once in a while. I noticed, as per usual, that her eyes hardly ever strayed from me.

I really, really did not want to know what she needed the courage for.

Third, we bumped into Rosalie. Surprise, surprise…a Tin man if I ever saw one. She strode in front of me, and turned around, so she could walk backward, as she continually ranted and berated me about every aspect of my life.

I could see that Leah wanted to stand up for me but, well, she didn't have the courage. I started walking faster now that Rosalie had joined us, anxious to get to the fucking conclusion. Ready to end this dream before Rosalie turned it into a nightmare.

My sweet Bella came next, she was the good witch. What a sight for sore eyes, she had been. A smile came across my face when she focused her attention on me. Everyone was silent as she gave me our instructions, all of them utterly entranced by her beauty and grace. I insisted on her to stay with us, but she couldn't. She had looked like she wanted to, and I held onto a morsel of hope, as my urging turned to begging, that I could get her to change her mind, but she declined with a sad look on her beautiful face. The look had never left her face as she turned to mist, and disappeared, leaving me with the motley crew.

Bella had sent us on our way to Oz, but warned us about the wicked witch. A red-haired witch.

_Well I wonder who that could be?_

It was no surprise as Victoria descended upon us minutes later. Cackling about how I would never escape her. She had a key around her neck that sparkled against her oversized chest. I didn't know why, but Claire wanted that key. I asked her for it, but the price was too high.

The only thing Victoria would accept as payment was me. Claire was pretty devastated that she couldn't have that key, but Rosalie stepped up to Victoria threateningly, and told her to get lost. Victoria had retreated saying that I wouldn't stay away for long, and that I would need her. We all scoffed in unison as we watched her climb on her broom and fly off to her nest.

We continued on our way, and everyone was getting tired of the bright colors and the overall cheerfulness. It had seemed like hours when the dream, in actuality, probably had lasted no more than ten minutes.

Eventually we saw the castle for which we would find the answers to all of our problems. I had watched the Wizard of Oz close to fifty times. I knew how the story went, but in this version I knew that the wizard would provide us with solutions to all of our issues.

We entered the castle. Everyone wanting their individual requests granted, but overall we were all just ready to go home. I started to worry slightly, because the inside of the castle looked frighteningly like the movie, and I was absolutely certain that the outcome would be different.

When we all stared into the big eye, requesting resolutions to each of our plights we were met with complete stillness. I knew where to find the little fucking closet, where that little fucker would be hiding. I pulled open the curtain, and was stunned to see James.

James was the one that was supposed to have all the answers…and he had none…for anybody. We all stood in front of him, quiet, waiting for all his words of wisdom, but he slouched in miserable silence. His face had fallen, and he looked properly disgraced. I turned from James and looked at everyone's questioning faces. We were all asking the same question to ourselves. _What now?_

_Shit! _As far as I was fucking aware, Victoria did not have on red glittery shoes, so I had wondered how the hell I was supposed to get everyone home. We all had walked dejectedly out of the castle wondering what the fuck we were supposed to do now. Sit around and wait for some goddamn clue?

It didn't take Victoria much time to find us again. She swooped down amongst us. When she settled she smiled victoriously at me, licking her lips, while she perused my body with sickening sanguinity. She had asked if I was ready to give myself to her. Leah had whimpered behind me. Claire started crying and pointing toward the key.

_The key._ The shiny object was still hanging around her neck.

_It was the way home. _

I had asked Victoria for the key nicely, but she laughed like the demon that she was. James lunged at her, trying to wrest the priceless treasure from her, but she had too many powers and threw him aside easily. Rosalie was next. She attacked her, but only managed to be chucked into the nearest tree. Claire took a step forward, and I stopped her. I would never let Victoria lay a hand on my precious, innocent sister. I stepped forward determined to get that key any way from her any way that I could.

The key represented our freedom. I found that I would do anything to get Claire and the others back, even if that meant giving into her demands.

I sauntered up to Victoria, planting the sideways smirk on my face that I knew she adored. She asked if I was ready to make her mine. I grasped the back of her neck with my hand and pulled her flush with my body, 'cause I knew that this disgusting whore liked it rough, and I whispered into her ear, "not a chance in fucking hell, you evil bitch." I was pissed that I had to deal with this wench anymore than seeing her in reality. I reached between our bodies and yanked the key from her neck. Without the key, her face became a mask of pain as she melted into a puddle at our feet.

Not even giving Victoria a second glance, I had made sure James and Rosalie were okay, nothing but hurt pride they had said. Little voices came from the fields around us singing "the wicked witch is dead". Their voices faded quickly when I started to feel the wind that was there to take us home. We all joined hands, but something was missing. Where was Bella? I had called for her, louder and strained as the thunderous wind came barreling down upon us.

Bella had appeared just before we had been whisked away, and I pleaded for her to come with us, but she had refused.

"You won't be able to do this if I am with you." She had said with her eyes and voice full of tears. Her words had cut like a knife. The pain was intense as the wind had carried me further and further away, until I could no longer see her exquisiteness.

I have tried all damn day to decode that dream, knowing that there is some deeper meaning. I consider myself a pretty intelligent guy, but I am falling short on the definition …if there is even supposed to be a meaning.

I wait for the brunette that drives the Mercedes, to pick me up from the post, agitated as all fucking get out. It feels like there is something that I have to do, and I have no clue what it is.

The brunette pulls up and I jump into the passenger seat ready to work out my aggression on our session, needing some relief. She smiles and winks at me as she shoves a wad of hundred dollar bills at me. I look at the money, and for some reason my hand has a mind of its own, dropping the cash on the middle console.

"I am sorry, but I just hung around to tell you that I am quitting. I am going back to school." She looks shocked, but resigned. We say our final goodbyes, and I exit her vehicle.

I walk away, steady and fucking sure.

Bella had been correct in the dream. I won't be able to do this with her.

Letting go will be hard, but I have to do this for myself, if I ever hope to find someone like her again someday.

The next time I do, I swear to fucking God, I will never, _ever_ let her go.

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**AN: Ok, so everyone has strange dreams! (I should know, this story is based on one.) Jasper has been so "deep" lately that I just wanted his final revelation on this topic to be lighthearted. Besides "the key" did you think Jasper had any other revelations during that dream? Did you understand what "the key" signified? I will answer in a review as well as give you a heads up to what is going on next chapter. It is going to be good. No more dreams…all reality…I promise!**

**Thanks for putting up with my weirdness. I seriously love you guys!**

**So, pause American Idol and send me some love, I missed you guys last week. **


	12. Burning Bridges

AN: This chapter turned out to be 8100 words so I split it into two, so if I hear lots of great comments I will make sure I stay up to fine tune the other half of this chapter and get it out to you no later than Tuesday. Your comments mean the world to me, so keep them coming. You inspire me.

**With that being said, I am halfway to my mark of being entered into my community, thank you so much everyone for giving both my stories so much support.**

**If you haven't checked out the community "Jasper/Bella over 1000 club" lately, check it out. We just added about 4 more to the growing number of Jasper/Bella fics that made it over 1000 reviews. I think we are up to a little over 30, which is still not enough.**

**Missmaj, my lovely ficmate, was my 500th review. Please check out her awesome Jasper/Bella fic. "A Change in Course." This fic will make it in the community – mark my words. **

**This chapter goes out to Ladydread81 who had a little bit of a mishap last week. Take care bb.**

**QueenBeta Cullen818 is the best beta of all time. She has a headache and I wanted to make sure I got this out to you today, since I will be out of town after Tuesday, so she did it with her headache and all. **

**I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.**

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"_**The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn." - David Russell**_

**Chapter 12 **

My palms are sweaty and my heart is racing. I know that if I don't do this right away…if I allow myself any time to actually think about it… I will find an excuse not to go through with it.

So here I am; fucking terrified. I stand outside the small, gloomy corridor as I look for the courage to go through the small door, and do what's best for me.

With determination and resolve, I walk into the registrar's office at EMU with my class selection, transcripts, and check in hand. I stride quickly to the counter where a middle-aged, librarian-looking woman stands behind a computer. For a brief moment her eyes roam over me. _Did she just check me out?_ I am not surprised…just maybe unprepared. I have a few things on my mind, just now, and the long standing affect that I have on women was temporarily forgotten.

"What can I help you with dear?" She says, pushing the glasses up on her nose. _Isn't she a little young to be calling me "dear"? _She is probably only a few years older than me, but she makes me feel like a little boy that is lost.

_Maybe I am lost. Maybe I should just take a few backward steps until I am closer to the door, and then turn around and make a run for it._

_No. I can do this._

Some unknown part of my anatomy, kick starts my vocals and I finally speak out. "Umm, yes ma'am." My voice shakes as I bring my hand above the counter, and spill the contents of my fist onto the cracked laminate. We both stare at the paperwork without saying a word. My eyes flicker to hers, and I notice she is now looking at me with concern.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. _Say something you fucking moron._ This isn't fucking final; I am not walking a plank, for fucksakes. I am just signing up for some stupid classes that I can back out of anytime I want.

I know I won't though.

I will not quit. I know that this is it. If I do this here and now, there is no turning back. My life _will_ change. I have to remind myself over and over again that this isn't an end, this is the beginning. This is supposed to be a good thing, but I think that is what is scaring me so much. I haven't been "good" for so long, I don't know if I can.

The secretary behind the counter must notice my inner turmoil. "Do you need something to drink young man? You look flustered." Young man? Flustered? Seriously? My annoyance finally topping my fear, and I push the papers toward her.

"No, ma'am, I'm fine. Can I please register for these classes?"

"You do realize that these classes started two weeks ago. You'll be starting behind." She picks up my course selection worksheet. "You are going to have a hard time catching up if you take so many classes. Maybe you should cut down to two instead of four, just for this semester."

"That won't be a problem ma'am. I am going to have a lot of free time. I'll catch up quickly." I respond, thinking about exactly what I will be giving up. The thought fills me with excitement mixed with unmistakable trepidation. This is the first big change that I have made in such a long time without having James stand beside me. To say that I am nervous is a gross understatement.

She looks at me with a smile. "Such dedication!"

"Well, let's make sure the classes aren't full, and then we will get you right over to the bookstore."

When I get home, I store the school books that I purchased in my closet. I don't need James to see them until I figure out a way to tell him what I have done.

_Fuck_. I sit on the sofa, waiting for James to get back from his evening appointment. I don't turn the TV on, favoring the stereo in its stead. Avenged Sevenfold plays from the speakers.

I seek to get lost in the music by attempting to break down the chords of the song. My hands move of their own volition, finding the notes on my invisible guitar, as I dissect the riffs the best I can. It works momentarily, as my worries disappear and the notes float around me, but too soon the song ends.

My thoughts return to the three girls I have yet to conclude my former business relationship with. Leah, Victoria and Bella. I will meet with Leah tonight, Victoria tomorrow and Bella on Friday.

The day after the weird dream that I had, I advised the first nameless brunette of my decision to leave the business. I managed to take care of the rest of my clientele, save for the three, this week, as well. Most of them had appointments scheduled where I met them, and informed them of my news, or when one had called to schedule an appointment I told her then, saving her the trip.

I didn't have any problems with any of these women. We separated amicably, wishing each other the best in our respective endeavors. There were no emotions involved; no anger, sadness or awkwardness. It was very straightforward and professional.

I have no such hope for the last three. There is no question what I can expect from Leah and Victoria, but Bella is still a mystery. I have no idea how she is going to take the news…and I have no idea how I am going to handle giving the news to her and the repercussions that follow.

I have avoided thinking about Bella. The thought of not seeing her again causes my chest to constrict painfully, but the thought of staying with her until she tells me she is done with me causes symptoms closely related to having major surgery without anesthesia, death would certainly be preferable.

I can't wait for her to tell me she doesn't want me anymore. It will kill me. How deep will I be, if I let this go on much longer? I already have feelings for Bella, which is no longer deniable. I haven't defined what those feelings actually are, because I'm afraid to realize what kind of feelings I have for her, and worse, how deep they really run. But I know they are there, ready to show themselves, and embarrass me at any given moment.

I have to be the one to make the choice to end things for my own sanity.

Once in a while I wonder if Bella would consider dating me, but even if she would, which is next to fucking impossible, I just can't do it. Voluntarily or involuntarily she would never let me forget how we met. I would never be able to forget this part of my life. With her by my side, I would always be reminded that I had once been a prostitute, and that she had paid for me.

But briefly I envision us together as a couple…it would almost be worth being reminded on a daily basis of what I was, if I could have that. I work hard to convince myself that there are other girls just like Bella out there, and I'll be with one of them one day. I _will_ have my happily ever after.

Maybe one day I will even have kids. That thought sends a shiver down my spine. I visualize a little boy and girl on my lap. They look like twins, they both have my blond waves, but instead of our families trademark blue eyes my fantasy children have deep chocolate eyes. I guess there is only one explanation for that, so I include Bella in my family photo, sitting next to me as we all smile happily into the camera.

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, clearing them of the unattainable thoughts. I know I will be much better off after I have had my goodbye. I will be able to stop dwelling on these thoughts and images, and finally look ahead.

I grow forlorn as the adrenaline from this afternoon's activities wear off. Morosely, I ponder my future. I try to stir up excitement in me, I scrounge for enthusiasm, I search desperately for happiness, but I suppose that will have to wait for a later date. Hopefully, the day will arrive shortly after the end of this week, after my choice has been followed through on; after I have officially been reclassified from "lowlife whore" to "hopeful full-time student".

I hear James' car pull in, and I tremble with anticipation and apprehension. When he walks in, he throws his keys on the table. He strides right into the kitchen where I hear the fridge open and slam shut.

I put my head in my hands_. Just fucking great._

I do not want to give him the news when he is in one of his infamous bad moods. He plops down heavily in one of the chairs, staring into space, with a frown on his face.

I approach with caution. "What's up?" He merely grunts in response.

His hold on spacing out had not been breached by the minimal reply. So I lean toward silence, letting him battle with his own issues for a moment, hoping fervently that whatever is going on in his head will have a genial outcome, so that I can get this over with.

Unfortunately, when his glassy eyes become focused, signaling that consciousness has made a return, I test the waters by smirking. "You having a bad day bro?"

"I dunno." He mumbles.

_Huh? _

_Okay. How do I respond to that?_

"Did anything happen while you were out? I mean, you left in a pretty good mood, what changed?" I inquire.

"Jessica." Is his simple, one word reply, and I am delighted to hear it. I just raise my brow in question, waiting for him to continue.

"I have no idea what the fuck her problem is. We were both waiting for our people to show, and as we waited she would barely talk to me. She just went off with that asshole, Embry, without a second look at me, no "goodbye", "fuck off", or anything. What is up her ass?"

_Ummm. Carrie. Duh._

"I don't know." I respond, not wanting to get James going on the wonderful traits he believes Carrie to possess.

"Jazz, I think I just need a fucking drink. Let's go downstairs and play some pool."

_Shit_. So, the timing isn't appropriate…but I don't want him to find out from someone else. This is between me and him. I don't give a fuck what every one else thinks, but James' feelings are important to me. He is the only person I have left in the world, and I don't want to lose him over something as stupid as this.

I just don't understand why he won't consider school.

Figuring I will have to find some other time, soon, to tell him, I let it go for now.

After an easy afternoon of pool, I was able to cheer James up. Conversation and drink flowed freely. We laughed and joked…boys just being boys…and all that. I wish I could have told James my news, he would have gave me some great advice on how to handle tonight with Leah, and tomorrow with Victoria.

Both of these girls are going to be challenging in totally different ways, but I want to be honest with them, and hopefully they will understand that I am doing this to crawl out of the hole that I have buried myself in.

Leah shows up on time, and I debate getting into the car to have this conversation in privacy, but decide against it, not wanting to take the risk of her taking off while I am still in the vehicle with her.

Leah is emotional and I would be a blind fool not to have realized that she has come to have feelings for me. I struggle each visit to maintain the business relationship only to have her try to foil it at every opportunity.

I pop my head in the rolled down window. "Leah, I need to talk to you. Can you come out here?" I say solemnly. She turns the car off, looking fretful.

"Can't we just talk on the way to the apartment?" She begs, already knowing that there is something is seriously wrong. My demeanor is probably giving away hints.

"No." I say quietly.

She exits her car, making her way around it very slowly. I can tell her mind is working a mile a minute, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

She tries to be nonchalant, studying her nails unceremoniously. "Well, I just don't know what couldn't have waited." She says haughtily.

"Leah." I breathe out her name, trying to get her attention off of her fingernails and unto me. I want to do this right.

When she finally looks at me, I tell her my news. "I have decided to go back to school." I hesitate when I see the smile on her face. Maybe I have this wrong. Maybe she will be okay with this.

I smile in return. "A full-time student." I clarify. "Which means that I will need all my free time to…to study." I falter when I see her smile slowly fade away.

"What…what does this mean?" Leah says, not wanting to really understand.

"I won't be doing this anymore Leah. I won't be seeing you again." I whisper, witnessing the pain that my words are causing her.

"What do you mean? Don't we have something more?" She looks truly dumbfounded.

Suddenly, she gets an excited look on her face. "Maybe we can see each other. Y'know…be together?"

"Aren't you forgetting something? Like your husband Leah?" I admonish.

"I can leave him. We can finally be together." Her fingernails dig into my arms as she tries to pull me closer, attempting to convince me to agree with her fucked up logic.

Knowing that this is going to crush her I have no choice but to say the words that will spell it out for her. "No. Leah, our relationship was purely business. I have no interest in pursuing anything further with you. I never did."

I remain steadfast, as she practically doubles over, clutching her stomach. I feel for her. She deluded herself into thinking that I had deeper feelings for her, and I do hold myself somewhat responsible for that. I hate to have to inform her that it was all a façade, but she should have known.

I didn't receive any pleasure in this. I really want her to be happy, and I tell her this.

I pull her hands from me, as I dodge her continued attempts to regain possession of my arms. "I wish you the best. I want you to be happy."

She stops grasping for my arms, and stands ramrod straight. "Ummm…okay…ummm." She looks around, at anything at everything; her eyes darting from one object to another. "I still get tonight, right?" Her voice cracks as she asks.

_Fuck!_ I sigh. "No."

Instead of the sadness that I expect, it looks like a light bulb goes on in her head, and she looks up at me seething. "You're going to see that red-haired bitch instead, aren't you?" Her eyes look wild, as she sneers.

"No, I am not seeing her either." I respond.

She begins to sob uncontrollably, as she feels me slipping away from her, drawing looks from the passersby. They look at me in disgust, because I chose to do my dirty work on the street...in public eye, rather than in privacy for the girl's sake. I would agree with them in normal circumstances, but as they are, this is not normal, and this was the only, and correct, course of action. A smart decision, as I don't want to imagine what I would be dealing with if I had chose to do this in private.

"Then who is it?" She demands. "I can make you happier than them." She pleads.

"There is no one. Can't you understand that I am doing this for myself?" I just want her to understand that this is not a personal attack on her.

"Just give me one more night, one more chance to prove to you..." She begs. Her voice thick with tears.

She is not listening to what I am saying.

I start to walk backward, because this is going nowhere. "I won't be back Leah. I really do wish you the best."

I turn to walk away, but she wraps her arms around my middle. I wrench them away, and turn around, holding her wrists. "This is done. There will be no more…EVER. Please understand this and MOVE ON." I say with authority.

I turn to walk away again. She follows me for a few steps, and then she stops. "Tell me your name. Just tell me your name." I keep walking.

She screams, "Just tell me your motherfucking name." I hear her wailing, and it hurts me that I can't help her when she is in such distress, but I know that if I did, I would be undoing what I had just accomplished, so I just walk away looking like an uncaring asshole.

XXXXX

Victoria. Ugh.

I literally have a cup on tonight. Yeah, I am in very real danger of being abused this evening, and I thought enough about it to protect my ability to have children in the future. I haven't thought about having kids much, but I am not going to let Victoria take the choice away from me, if I decide to have them later on in life.

I want to put a suit of armor on, but decide that maybe I deserve a little of the abuse that she will be offering up tonight. I'll probably let her have a swat or two before I will have to restrain her.

I felt like shit all of last night, thinking about how things had gone down with Leah. I stayed up most of the night trying to figure out what I could have done differently, and how I could use that knowledge to help me out today with Victoria.

I figured out that there were things with Leah that I could have done differently…maybe even _should_ have done differently, but what's done is done, and it's over. Leah had surprised the hell out of me by fighting for me. It reminded me of the dream that I had, and how Leah wanted courage. She sure had it yesterday.

The other thing that I figured out during my rumination last night is that absolutely nothing that I learned from yesterday is going to help me with the red-haired devil today. I guess when I took Victoria on as a regular customer I didn't consider the time when we would be ending our arrangement. I presume it always seemed more likely that she would move on before me.

Yesterday, I had been impatient to get it over with Leah, pacing while I waited for her to arrive. Today, I sit dejectedly on a bench that is close enough to our regular pick up spot, that Victoria could see me here. I sit, ever so patiently, thinking that I can go a lifetime without this confrontation.

Victoria pasts "the post" as she recognizes me on the bench. I quickly decide that I will start out pleasant, and see where that leads us. I don't even bother sending up a quick prayer that she will be congenial.

She pulls over to the curb. I see her reach onto the passenger side of the vehicle to put some items that are there in the back seat. I don't get up right away, and she gives me a puzzled look.

_Here we go. This should be fun times._

I open her passenger door, and ask her the same question I asked Leah yesterday. "I need to talk to you. Do you think you could come out here for a minute?" I motion over to the bench that I had previously been occupying. Before she gets out of her car I move back to the bench, taking a seat quickly, hoping that she will follow suit.

Maybe if I strive to make this casual, she can remain calm.

She exits the car, and instead of taking a seat, moves to stand over me. _Shit._ Now this puts me in an even more vulnerable position as she towers over me.

I figure the best thing to do is just to get this over with quickly. "Victoria, I just wanted to let you know that I am starting school next week, and that I will be a full-time student." I blurt.

She glances at her watch, clearly annoyed, and then brings her jade eyes to mine. "Okay? So what does this have to do with me, and our appointment that we have scheduled right now?"

"Victoria, I won't be going with you tonight. I am here because I thought it would be the right thing to tell you in person that I will no longer be doing this." I wave my hand around us.

She bends down so that her face within an inch of mine. "Well, I am so fucking happy for you, now get in the fucking car, because I know there is no goddamn way that you would make me come all the way here…_all this fucking way_… because I don't live anywhere near this shit town...just to make me turn around and go back home." She sounds condescending and demeaning.

She is talking to me how I have heard her talk to her employees. So I act like one of them.

I lean in closer to her face and speak clear and concise, enunciating each word. "I. QUIT."

I get up to start to walk away, but she grabs my arm viciously and whips me around. I will give her three strikes, and that is one. I tamp down my instinct to grab the arm that she has a painful grip on.

I consider myself a pretty strong guy. James and I have a weight room in our basement, and we used it often enough to know that I am not a weak individual. However, there is no doubt in my mind that Victoria could probably take down a small army on her own, and it is pretty obvious that I am not a small army.

With one hand gripping my arm she clamps her other hand on the underside of my jaw. Is she seriously going to try to choke me out in front of a wide array of people on the street gathering for their nightly activities? If that's the case, I will have to give up on the "strike three" rule that I planned on allowing her, since it is clear we would never make it to the third. She doesn't put pressure on my windpipe, so air continues to flow freely.

I know, for the second night in a row, I am making yet another spectacle in public, so to defuse the situation as soon as possible, I grab her hand and disengage it from my throat forcefully, in doing so, having to squeeze her hand a little harder than I would have liked. I see the pain etched in her features before I notice a euphoric smile cross her face. _Sick bitch._

I should introduce her to Embry, from what I hear, that guy likes to play rough. I have a feeling that he and Victoria would either get along famously, or they would kill each other on the first night. I would be happy with either way that it turned out, because in both cases they would be out of mine and Jessica's hair.

"Listen Victoria. I've let you have your little temper tantrum. I know that you think this is all about you, but it is not. I am doing this for me, and I have nothing against you. I am sorry that you feel like you came all the way here for nothing, but I felt like I owed it to you to do this in person. At this point, I don't care if you understand that or not. We. Are. Finished."

I turn and take a few steps away. I stop when she starts laughing evilly, but don't turn around. "Poor boy. You actually think you are finished with me?" I feel her come up behind me and stroke my hair lovingly. "I'll give you some time, but were not finished. You and me…we have something, and I am not letting it go that easily."

I continue to walk away, and her hand slides out of my hair. I can't contain the shudder that roars through my body at her words.

I have the worst feeling that this is not the last time I will see Victoria.

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**AN: So, I have a feeling I didn't hear from some of you last chapter because I put you on the spot by trying to decipher a pretty complicated and weird dream. Sorry for that. Did I redeem myself? **

**So, do you think that was his last meeting with either of these two girls? If you've read Finding Relief than you know half of that answer. Did they take it as you expected?**

**Please review and I promise to stay up and finish the next chapter so you can have it tomorrow night, Tuesday by the latest. Depending on my lovely beta's schedule.**


	13. An Epic Tailspin

**AN: Another 5000 words. I really wonder how I thought that I could fit everything from chapter 12 and 13 into one. All I know is that I struggled to put together 2500 words for Bella's chapters and I can't seem to keep it under 4000 for Jasper's. Thanks to everyone that reviewed last chapter. Your comments made my day, so as promised, I worked hard to get this out to you today.**

**Anyway, this is Jasper's POV of chapter 14 in "Finding Relief". We're getting there!**

**I want to thank QueenBeta Cullen818 for all the quick work she does in getting my chapters out to you. WonderWoman has nothing on her. She writes awesome stories, beta's about a dozen other's, and has time to create another amazing blog. **

**Go check out her latest blog: Jaspersnaughtygirls (dot) blogspot (dot) com. This blog features the dark, dominant, tortured men of Twilight. Whew! "Hell yeah!" Is all I have to say about that!**

**I do not own Twilight or any of the characters.**

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"_**How much has to be explored and discarded before reaching the naked flesh of feeling." - Claude Debussy**_

**Chapter 13 – An Epic Tailspin **

I pace the expanse of the small hallway in the apartment. The time is here and now…the meeting that I have dreaded all week. I have ended all my previous arrangements with all of my other clients, well ex-clients. I managed to survive Victoria and Leah. Now, there is only one; Bella.

_Bella_. How the hell am I supposed to do this?

When Bella called to inform me that she was on her way, I longed to be a coward and take the easy way out by telling her over the phone, or at least tell her to join me at "the post" instead of meeting at the very place we have spent, entirely too few, intimate moments together.

I don't want to do it here, surrounded by memories, of her…of the others, but when it came down to it, the only thing I could utter on the phone was a weak "okay". Fuck, I feel nauseous.

_I can do this. I can do this. Shit, who am I kidding? I can't fucking do this._

Jesus, I can't wait to never set foot in this place again. I have tried to psych myself up for this all day. Who the hell am I kidding? I have been trying to psych myself up for this since I made my decision to stop hooking.

How is she going to take it? I have no idea. I don't even know what the hell I am going to say to her yet. How am I going to explain that I can't be with her anymore without her witnessing my own pain?

Earlier, I walked around the house absentmindedly, as I practiced several versions of what I can say, and how I can say it. I laid in bed practicing my speech, I stood in front of the open fridge explaining my circumstances, I shaved while I worked at keeping my eyes and expressions neutral, but the words sounded foreign, my attempts at keeping my expression passive seemed forced, my circumstances sounded defensive and more like I was just making excuses, rather than giving solid reasons.

And when I stared at my reflection in the window overlooking the backyard, actually envisioning her standing in front of me as I made my speech my voice cracked and I stuttered over every other word.

How am I supposed to explain to her that being with her is hurting me, when it is all I want to do? How am I supposed to justify to her that I want this to end, when I can't stand the thought of never touching her again?

The aching in my chest that I have experienced since this morning is still present. I rub it absently, as I rehearse, again, what I will say to her when she arrives.

I already feel bereft, like she is already gone.

More than once I've wondered if I can convince her to keep seeing me…without paying, but I can't put myself out there like that right now. Even, if I could get passed the reasons that I thought of yesterday. If I could live a life with a person that not only knew of my past, but was closely involved, I still don't think I could find the guts to ask her, because I know I won't be able to stand the foreseeable rejection. I have no grounds to feel confident that I am worthy of her, when I have done nothing creditable to prove to either of us that I am.

She has never given me any indication that she would be willing to pursue something with me outside of our current business relationship. Sure, there were times when we are together, I often feel emotions coming off of Bella, but I don't understand them. She always looks like she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, so I can't tell if the emotions she is expressing are inspired from me or something else going on in her life.

Sometimes I can see what it would look like if we were a couple. Most of her sessions, she arrives, telling me about her day. Sometimes, we share food or a drink before we get down to business, while we discuss a topic that one of us had seen in the news or in the paper.

She also takes over my room now. She sets the lighting, fluffs the pillows and retrieves the condoms from my drawer before she comes to me with a smile on her beautiful face.

_Impossible dreams._ Now this is the shit I have got to stop thinking about. Besides, how can I take care of Bella, if I haven't figured out how to take care of myself?

Should I tell her I owe this to her? That she was my lifting off point? She inspired this whole process. Would she appreciate knowing that? My thoughts are interrupted by the buzzer. I take a deep breath and buzz her in.

_I can do this. I WILL do this._

I close my eyes as I gather strength. _I can do this. I can do this. _These four words are repeated like a mantra.

I stand in the small foyer waiting for the door to open, because Bella never waits for me to open it anymore. She stands at the entrance with her shoulders slumped and circles under her eyes. The weight of the world, and all that. She looks completely drained.

"You look like hell." I tell her. My blunt honesty causes this gorgeous girl to raise her tired eyes to mine and her lips to lift slightly at the corners.

I can't do this. Not now. The look in her eyes tells me she really needs this tonight. If I am going to quit her cold turkey, can't I at least have this one more time? Can't this be part of my goodbye? It would be perfectly acceptable to wait until after we've completed our business with each other to tell her the news.

This is a transaction. A transaction that has a beginning and a decided end, and when we get to that conclusion, then I can tell her of my decision. Convincing myself, rather easily that this will not be a mistake, I walk over to her. My mood improving radically, with each step I take toward her.

"Thanks, asshole." She turns her head to catch my smile. She chuckles and shakes her head minutely. I approach her from behind and wrap my arms around her, lacing my fingers across her abdomen.

My fingers press into the area of her soft, silky flesh, found between the hem of her shirt and top of her jeans. My nose glides along her shoulder, taking in the scent of skin and hair. I am committing all of this to memory. Not ever wanting to forget this exact moment.

This is what I want someday, but not for pretend, I want the real thing. My thoughts turn gloomy once again.

Goddammit, I don't want this to be a fucking sad experience. I _need_ my final time with Bella to be beautiful and memorable. I _need_ it to be like it has been every other time we've been together; a foray of what I can expect in the future.

I also _need_ to thank her for what she has done for me…what she has inadvertently shown me.

I want to pour all my gratitude and love…

_What? _This is NOT love. It _cannot_ be love.

This is not the time to be having another fucking revelation.

_Fuckin' A. Please, please_, I beg my heart; don't do this to me right now. I notice that Bella, completely unaware of the mayhem going on in my head, has casually dropped the money on the counter, and just like fucking that, I remember exactly how much this means to her.

I don't give her a second glance as I head back down the hall to my room. I feel Bella pass by me to make a trip to the restroom.

I set the lighting, remove my white cotton tee, and pace as I wait impatiently for her to return. I just want her in here so I can feel her supple body underneath my palms, taste her succulent skin against my tongue, and press her sweet body into the mattress as I fill her with my cock. Sweat breaks out along my forehead.

I don't want to appear nervous, so I stretch out on the bed, my back against the headboard, trying to act casual and nonchalant. However, my mind repeatedly returns to the impending conversation that we are going to have after this. I can't manage to stop or decelerate the pain that is rapidly gaining momentum in my chest, or ignore the sinking feeling that this is a mistake. God, I don't need any more disappointment in my life.

No. I know that this is not a fucking mistake! _It just isn't._

_Whatever you want to tell yourself, man._

Bella walks in and looks at me strangely. Can she sense what is happening? She smiles; a wickedly delicious smile, and turns to my dresser to get the condom. She must be ready to go. Usually, she waits until I am ready to penetrate, both of us sweaty and panting, before she goes for the condom, but today she thinks ahead, and grabs the foil packet from the top drawer.

She pivots back around, and the only word that comes to mind is that she "struts" over to the side of the bed, swaying her hips from side to side dramatically.

She is trying to cheer me up. Knowing this, makes my throat close up. I practically wheeze as air forces its way in and out of my constricted esophagus.

She is always fucking thinking about me.

Trying to make me happy, trying to find out more about me, and trying to turn me on. I try to smile at her efforts, to let her know that I appreciate it, but I barely succeed, my lips merely forming a tight little smile.

Her brow furrows slightly. She throws the rubber on the bed, and reaches up to push a stray lock of my hair to the side. Her gestures toward me are so intimate, and I struggle not to lean into her touch. These mixed signals have kept me up many of nights, pondering how much value I could actually put into them. The way she touches me is more like how a woman touches her lover, her boyfriend or her husband, certainly not her paid company.

I never let myself pretend for more than a few moments what it would be like to be in one of those other roles, but today I want to. This one time I want to imagine that I am her lover…someone she cherishes and treasures. Will she be able to tell if I put more of my heart into this? If so, I wonder how she will respond.

"Now Jazzy baby, are you ready to play?" The seductive tone of her voice, and that look in her eyes are ridding me quickly of my sour mood. I swear if I didn't know better I would think those chocolate orbs are trying to tell me something. Her eyes are so soulful, always conveying thousands of hidden messages and forbidden secrets. It looks like she is trying to tell me one of those secrets now. I give myself a mental shake, my emo tendencies are in overdrive tonight, so I am probably deluding myself in the worst way.

"Yes, ma'am." My voice sounds foreign to me as my accent from childhood makes an appearance without intention.

She removes her shirt slowly, taking the hem and gradually lifting it over her taut stomach, reaching over her pert breasts, clad in a, sexy as fuck, bra. My eyes stop there as the shirt travels over her head. Instead of dropping the garment on the floor she grabs it with both hands, climbs on top of me, and still grabbing both ends of her shirt brings it around my neck so that she can use it to pull me to her.

She sits directly on my very evident arousal. Bella can get me soft to hard in about two seconds flat. Although, I have never really been able to test that theory for sure since I don't think I have ever been completely flaccid in her presence.

Smiling knowingly, she says sexily, "Oh, you are ready to play." She is so fucking awesome. She is patiently trying to pull me out of this funk, and she doesn't even know why.

She doesn't know it is because I am trying to resign myself that this will be our last night together, while also trying to convince myself that this is the best thing…for the both of us. I just hope she sees it that way too…or maybe I don't.

It doesn't take much of a deduction to figure out that if Bella put up even a minimal bit of conflict…if she fights for me in the least, she will own me.

I gently squeeze her hips to show her that I am grateful for her efforts. I have to purge myself of this moodiness or she is going to think that I don't want her.

Using the shirt bracketed around my neck she pulls me closer and places her lips on mine. It is only for a split second, but a lightning bolt runs through my body.

While deciding how much of myself I could put into this last time I never once thought about kissing her, that is something I know I can't dare, but having her lips on mine, even for that instant almost makes me come unleashed. There is no way she could have realized what a chaste peck on the lips did to my state of mind. I don't want to think about what I would do if I allowed myself access to those lips. Innocently, Bella has ignited a fire in my veins.

She already has such power of me. A power I am not so sure that I am ready for her to relinquish.

What I longed for seemed to her like a mistake…a mistake she is trying to cover up for now. Her lips skim over my face, placing butterfly kisses across my cheeks, nose and forehead; steering clear of my mouth. My lips had just been in the way…right?

We watch each other closely as she gyrates her hips over my erection. Her panties have the tell-tale wet spot, showing that she is more than ready for me, but I want to take this last time slow. She has different plans as she moans, pressing harder as she rocks against my cock.

Fuck that feels so good.

Her lips are parted and her breathing choppy, I can't contain my own moan, as I bring my hand up to cover her heated cheek. I gently brush my thumb over her flushed cheekbone.

_So fucking gorgeous._ If I ever had the opportunity, I would never get sick of looking at Bella. She is a thing of beauty.

Her undulations are becoming more insistent. I don't want to go up in smoke before the fire starts, so to slow things down we switch our positions. I head right for the spot on her neck that she loves; about an inch below her ear, and I bite down gently, a little growl escaping my lips as I do so. My tongue and lips make a journey down her neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva in the wake, as I suck at her skin, with open mouthed and passionate kisses.

Trying yet again to control my rampant desire, that I only seem to suffer when I am with her, I leave her bra on while I soak it with my tongue, laving at her tits through the thin material. Repeatedly and torturously, I suck and nip at her pebbled nipples, until I feel like she is ready to explode. She writhes and groans my name underneath me as I assault her again and again. Her body moving against mine aggressively, and her guttural moans are causing my aching dick to demand immediate attention. I move to her back to strip off her bra. I slide down our already moist bodies, lifting myself up, so that I can divest her of her panties, as well as, remove my remaining clothes.

She is splayed out gloriously naked over my bed as I stare at her. She is looking up at me through half lidded eyes, her soft pouty lips open to allow for the ragged breaths she takes, the tresses along her forehead and neck are wet with perspiration. She looks so wanton, so fucking heavenly.

_I love you._

_Oh, God._ My breath hitches as the words I spoke, only in my heart, register with the rest of my body.

I don't know where that came from, but tonight I am done fighting this. I am done. Just tonight…just this night…I am not going to deny it. Whether my heart just spoke the truth or not, I am going to allow it right here, and right now. I can analyze it later, and then and there, I could find the excuses and reasons why it isn't, and can't possibly be, love.

Reasons that I will so desperately be searching for in my sleeplessness and despair for many nights to come. I would be a fool not to realize that insomnia and desolation are waiting for me in my lonely bed, but it doesn't stop the return of those three potent words.

_I love you._

I let the feeling run through my body. For now, it feels empowering. I didn't need to say the words aloud to recognize another significant step that this woman has helped me overcome.

Hell has frozen over, pigs have flown, and black just became white, because I can and will love again.

I am capable of the emotion, I want to feel it, I need to have it.

I search frantically for the condom lying on the bed and apply it. I briefly wonder why she didn't do it for me, as she normally does. My eyes flicker to hers and I see that her eyes are squeezed shut.

_What the fuck._ I just had this life altering epiphany…that I love…and she can't even look at me. I am pissed, and I know it is irrational, but when pleasure is heightened, whenever I am deep inside her, fulfilling her desires she can never look at me. Her eyes are always shut. I am professing my love for her, while she is trying to forget who she's with.

She is thinking about _him_. She wants to envision that it is _him_ bringing her to the point of ecstasy. _Edward._ I am repulsed by the part of me that is consumed with jealousy over a man that had lost his life, so young, leaving behind this beautiful and wonderful girl, but my resistance is weak in comparison to this ugly green-eyed monster.

I push two fingers into her wet cunt. She is scalding, making my fingers swell and pulse inside of her. She whimpers and arches her back, pressing her pussy against my fingers. "Look at me." I whisper fervently.

I pray that she will open her eyes, and look at me so that maybe it will extinguish this bitterness at being second place for her, as she has always been and will remain my first choice.

_Give. Me. A. Reason._ I beg her silently.

_Give me a fucking reason not to say goodbye._

But, as expected, she doesn't.

So, it is just as well…right?

"Bellaaa." Clearly frustrated, I attempt again to get her to see _me_. I remove my fingers and position myself above her. I enter her swiftly, taking her roughly. I ride her hard. Each time, I withdraw almost completely before slamming back into her, and grinding our hips together. I watch the rapture cross over the features on her face in waves, after each forceful thrust. Her chocolate orbs nowhere to be found. Her eyes remained tightly shut, wanting to hide the fact that she was with me and not her dream guy.

A guy that is just as unattainable to her, as she is to me.

I can feel her tightening around me, signaling her forthcoming climax. I retreat and press back into her at an even slower pace now, dragging this experience out as far as my tormented balls will consent to holding off. I need her to look at me before she has this orgasm, and that need, at this moment, is stronger than my need to empty myself inside of her.

"Look at me, Bella." My words have an opposite effect. Not only is she clenching around me like a vice on my dick, but it makes her eyes pinch shut more than they have been, scrunching up and creating lines in her perfect forehead.

I can't identify every emotion that comes crashing down on me at that moment. The most obvious and discernable are jealousy, despair, desire, doom, pain, love…

The maelstrom of these emotions speaks for me. Clearly hissing words I would have never been able to say with even a modicum of control. "Why can't you look at me? Is it because you are thinking of Edward right now?"

I know what I said was wrong, and I search under the mountainous emotions I am experiencing for remorse, or regret, but I can find none.

I feel the crack of her small hand against my cheek as she lays her open palm against my face in a sharp sting, the new emotions surfacing from the ever-growing mound is a deep-seeded agony. This new feeling fuels a rage so intense, I think I am about to burst.

She prepares herself to slap me again, but as she brings her arm back to achieve maximum velocity, I pin it to the bed. She attempts to swing her other arm, but I snatch that one from mid air, and pin it to the other side of her head.

Helpless, she lies underneath me, panting as our chests rise and fall with the demands from our lungs. The air is thick between us as I try to grapple for some control over this situation. I am brought out of my search when I feel her pussy contract, reminding me that I am still balls deep inside of her. Fuck, how could I have forgotten that minor detail? My cock still throbbed insistently, begging for some relief.

My fury of emotions, mixed with the sudden reminder of a much needed release swirls and twists my mind, and the next thing I know my body takes matters in its own hands and my lips crash down on hers with a voraciousness I have never experienced before.

I am a starving man. I feed off of the interior of her mouth. Her lips had parted in shock at my invasion, but she doesn't remain dormant for long, participating with a hunger of her own.

She wants this too. As our lips devour and our tongues explore greedily I let go of her wrists. Both of our hands entangle in each other's hair, fisting it. Neither one of us seemingly minding the delicious pain we are inflicting upon each other.

I resume my thrusts into her, but I am quick and lithe, both of us requiring a respite from the prolonged suffering of not obtaining an orgasm.

My lungs feel like they are going to burst, but I can't pull away from her delectable mouth. I start to feel dizzy, so I settle for placing hot wet kisses all over her luscious lips. She responds in kind, licking and flicking her tongue against mine. When I receive a sufficient amount of air to sustain me for some time, I delve back into the sweet recesses of her mouth for more. I proceed to rape her mouth, taking what I can never have again.

I try to commit this to yet another memory, knowing full well that I will never be able to retain the abilities to replicate this in a fantasy, or real life, ever again. This is it.

_This is it._

I surrender her lips reluctantly, as I feel her explode around me. I bury my face in her neck as I feel the remnants of her orgasm, wanting to feel every last compress before she drains me. I lay in the crook of her neck gasping for air, as my cum shoots stream after stream into the condom.

Everything that just happened surrounds me, finally sinking in to ever pore. What I had said and done claws at my insides. The remorse and regret I searched for only moments ago comes forth in a torrent, drowning me in guilt and shame.

I can't believe I brought up her dead, and fucking _beloved_, husband while she was at the cusp of an orgasm with me inside of her. Yeah, Jasper Hale. Total fucking monster extraordinaire.

How she had managed to follow through with it after that, I will never fucking know. All I know is I have to get the fuck out of here and get some fresh air, I feel like I am suffocating on my thoughts.

I manage a quick, "I'm sorry", and then I scurry out of the room without making any eye contact.

I walk out onto the little patio. I brace my hands on the railing and lean onto it for support. Every part of my body is trembling now.

Well, this should be easier than I had previously thought. I just figured out that I am not going to have to do shit. She is going to be the one to break it off with me after that little display I put on in there. Bella will end it for me. Now, I just have to gather my strength not to beg her to change her mind and keep seeing, what she must now see as some deranged lunatic.

The emotions of this whole evening, fuck, the whole week had come barreling down on me like a freight train. I can't remember the last time, if I have ever had been controlled by such emotions. Rage and hate, lust and love, mixed into a lethal cocktail.

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

I can't help but jump because, to my utter amazement, I feel Bella's arms wrap around me as her fit little body molds up along my backside.

_Christ! You have got to be fucking kidding me._

"Jazz, I'm not mad. I was at the time, but it's over and it's forgotten." She tries to turn me so that I am facing her. "Please, look at me." She beseeches.

Now I know someone is kidding me. She wants _me_ to look at _her_. If she would have just looked at me…peeked at me, this evening wouldn't have ended so disastrously.

I have to just get this over with.

Even though I haven't shed a tear since the days following Claire's death, I feel like weeping. Feeling way to rundown to explain the actual reasons for ending this fucked-up, one-sided love affair, I just decide to keep it simple and direct. "Bella, I think you should stop coming to see me."

I look down at her face, but I don't look _at her_. I purposely don't focus on her face as I wait for her acquiesce. When she doesn't respond immediately, I focus.

I see the confusion in her eyes as she tries to decipher why. She confirms this when she asks me that one word question. "Why? Is it because of the kiss? It won't happen again, I promise." She states adamantly.

"It's not like you had much of a choice." I mutter, disgustedly.

She still wants to see me. _I can't fucking do this…I can't tell her. _I put my hands through my hair in frustration. I can't tell her now, after I just totally fucked up what could have been a very cordial and amicable separation. It isn't supposed to end like this.

Maybe, if I have one more time, I can make this night up to her. In my mind, I try hard to justify it, and just as I am about to relent, she speaks. "It's not that time yet. I'll let you know when I am ready to be done." She presses her lips lightly to my cheek, turns on her heel, and leaves without another word spoken.

Can I do that? Can I wait for her to tell me? Even if it fucking kills me can I try? Can I keep taking her money? No.

I will give her next week…_I_ will have next week. I will make her forget this night, and then that will be it. There will be no excuses next time.

For some reason I cannot compel myself to promise that I will break it off next week, the only thing I can manage to promise is that next week Bella will no longer be paying for my services. Although, I have no idea what the difference between the two is.

I pull into the driveway, looking forward to one thing…bed. I just want to disappear in a mass of pillows and blankets, while I try to uncover just what the hell happened to me today, and to find the resolve to make this right for Bella's next appointment.

And if I let myself…dwell on those kisses for just a little while.

My plans are thwarted when I walk into the house and see James pacing the living room.

_What now?_

I must have been asking that question with the expression on my face because James thrust a piece of paper at me.

"What's this?" He sneers.

_Fuck._

In my hand I hold my class schedule.

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**AN: So…wow, that was intense, even for me. I thought this chapter turned out much better from Jaspers POV. Who would have thought he was thinking about all of that in "Finding Relief"? As usual, I can't wait to hear what you have to say.**


	14. The Friendship Test

**AN: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. Also, thanks to those of you still adding me to your favs and alerts. **

**There were FOUR new stories added to the Jasper/Bella over 1000 club, so go check it out and make sure you haven't missed any of them. I want to thank Dana (Anadbyel) and Tara (Lux210) for joining the staff of the community. Lord knows I need serious help, especially since so many fics are making it into the community now. Hopefully, between Me, missmaj, Dana and Tara we can make sure the C2 stays accurate for you subscribers, which is close to 100 now.**

**So, I have to mention that the I noticed that in the few stories that I actually still keep up with that there seems to be a lack of reviewing going on. I understand that sometimes life gets in the way, or sometimes you really don't have anything to say. Some authors have expressed this in anger and disappointment, and others have risen to the occasion and offered challenges. Even though, I would never complain about the amount of reviews that I get, I decided to partake in a challenge of my own.**

**You know I don't do this often. I think I have only offered up a challenge twice between both of my stories and I mainly do it because the reward is going to take a lot of effort on my part. See the AN at the bottom for the details.**

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_**"The friendship that can cease has never been real" - Saint Jerome**_

**Chapter 14 – The Friendship Test**

"So, what is that Jazz?" He sneers, looking at the paper dangling from my cold, lifeless fingertips.

I hear snickering. I look over to the sofa where Carrie sits with a repulsive smile on her face.

"You know what it is." I answer still looking at Carrie disgustedly.

"Spell it the fuck out for me Jasper." His face is red, as his anger boils over. What the fuck is his problem? Now, I am getting upset. Going back to school is my choice to make.

"What the fuck are you so pissed about?" I seethe.

"What am I pissed about asshole?" He repeats mockingly.

Oh fuck, I can't do this right now, especially in front of his slut. "I am not doing this in front of her. If you want to have this conversation Carrie leaves."

He stares at me hard before he turns to Carrie. "I'll call you later."

"No. There is no way that I am missing this." She crosses her arms in defiance.

James eyebrows raise, and he slowly turns around to completely face her. "Get the fuck out. NOW!"

I've never known anyone that defied him when he used that tone. Carrie is no exception. She quickly stands from the couch. She tries to give James a kiss, but he pulls away with a look of dismay.

She bears down on me giving me a scathing look before her lips turn up into a sickening smile. "Enjoy your conversation." She whispers, as she runs her finger down my chest lightly.

I hear the door shut, and subsequently moments later, the sound of Carrie's engine start and sound of her tires rolling down the gravel driveway.

The silence is deafening for a few moments. I refuse to speak first, this is his problem, not mine.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He says _too_ quietly, which stuns me. The pain and confusion is palpable in his voice.

He continues. "What the fuck did you think I would do? Huh, Jazz?"

He grabs my upper arms when he notices I am in some kind of trance. "What was so fucking scary? Tell me." He says, as he tries to shake me out of my unspoken state.

"I signed up for a few stupid classes." I try to make it sound casual, like it is no big deal.

"A few classes, Jazz?" He grabs the schedule back out of my hand. "This says _four_ classes, not a few, and you can hardly label them as _stupid_." He reads them off. "Lets see, we have History, Algebra, Psych, and Lit." He looks up at me and frowns. "Seriously?"

"According to this, you are going to school every day Jazz. These classes will require a lot of time. Where is your job going to fit into all this?" He questions. His eyes searching mine for answers when I hesitate.

Fuck. Well, I guess now is as good a time as any.

"I quit." He looks taken aback; the hurt is clearly evident in his face before he clouds it over with a mask of indifference.

"You already quit? When?"

"I did it this week. I have one more client to take care of and then I am done." I can't bear to look at him, I keep my head down, studying my socks. His cool facade doesn't fool me. I know he is mad and hurting. Knowing that I caused his pain, makes my throat constrict. I want, no, I need to do this for myself, but I don't want to hurt him in the process.

After a few moments of quiet I can't take it anymore and peer up at him. He stares at me with cold, narrowed eyes.

"So, when are you moving out?" The shock is immediate, and I am heartbroken.

_He wants me to leave – just like that?_

This is all it took to bring our friendship down? My insides churn. All that we had been through together…over? And why? – just because I had made a decision without him? This is unreal. This has to be a fucking nightmare. The tightness already in my throat doubled at his words. I can't breathe, let alone speak.

"Tell me you fucking asshole. Tell me when you planned to move out? Or were you just going to leave another fucking piece of paper for me to find after you had already left?" He flings my class schedule in the air, and starts to leave the room.

He thought _I_ had _planned_ to move out? _He isn't throwing me out_. That realization awakens me from my stupor.

I grab his arm as he is storming past me, and he cocks his free arm back, rage consuming him, and for a split second it looks as if he is going to hit me. Thankfully, comprehension of what he is about to do stops him from striking me, deciding instead to just wrench his arm out of my grip.

"Stay the fuck away from me." He warns. Both of us are aware that if I touch him again he will not be able to stop himself from knocking me to the ground.

"James, I don't want to leave. I still want to live here. Please talk to me. Don't leave."

"You want to talk now? Too fucking late _best friend_." His face twists when he says "best friend".

"Why are you so fucking mad? What do you care what I do?" I beg for understanding. _Help me understand._

He turns around, stalking back until he is just a few inches from me. "You just don't fucking get it do you? Why couldn't you just fucking tell me you were going to do it?"

"I thought you would just try to talk me out of it, or get mad." He staggers back a few steps looking completely perplexed, which gives me the uneasy feeling that I have it all fucking wrong…again.

"What?" Something finally dawns on him. "Are you talking about the few times that you have mentioned "a change" here and there the last few weeks? Is that what this is all about? Because I didn't jump on your fucking bandwagon?" He is more livid than ever. "You son of a bitch…you stupid, ignorant asshole. What the fuck are you making me out to be? What did I ever say? Let me think…" He exaggerates this point by pretending to think real hard. "I told you I didn't want to go back to school, I fucking told you that I didn't think you needed to either. I reminded you that we didn't like it. I told you that I like my job, and that I thought we had it pretty good. I wasn't making a fucking decision for you. I didn't _forbid_ you to go sign up for school, asshole. What am I to you? Tell me, what you think of me? Out of all the fucking years we have been together I still haven't earned your fucking trust?"

"You think this is about you going back to school? Well, fuck off!" He starts to stomp off, but turns back around, his voice raising the roof. "What is my fucking problem? My fucking problem is that YOU DID NOT FUCKING TRUST ME. I am supposed to be your best friend, but you kept me in the dark, you didn't feel that you could tell me something as minor as this?"

_Minor?_

His voice turns from hot to cold. "When were you going to tell me? After everyone else knew?"

"Nobody knows." In my expression I plead for him to understand what I can't anymore. Why _did_ I withhold this from him? The answer isn't clear anymore.

"Everyone except your clients Jazz. They must mean more to you than I do."

"I thought you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore." The reason seems so fucking stupid now, and saying it out loud makes it sound so much more moronic. What the fuck was I thinking by not telling him what I was doing in advance?

He looks bewildered before he snorts. "Everything is always about you. Obviously, it didn't matter to you what I was going to think. You went and did it, so even if I was going to care it wouldn't have mattered…right? Jesus fucking Christ, not everything I have ever done has been for you Jazz, but I always made sure you were going to be okay with it before you or I did it. I thought we were in this for the long haul. I have made some mistakes Jazz, but you have too. I never thought I had to worry that our friendship was so fragile, that it was on tenterhooks, where anything I could do would make you take off, but I guess I have been living under a grand misconception." He backs up a few steps.

"It looks like I am going to have to spend some time re-evaluating our friendship. Apparently, I have put more stock in it than what it's worth. I think it may be time to divest some of that before the losses become too great. And for the record, I would never tell you that I didn't want to be your friend because you chose to do something that I didn't want to. I am apparently not as big of an asshole you make me out to be."

He grabs his keys and moves toward the door. "James, c'mon, let's talk about…" I am interrupted by the slamming of the front door and within seconds hear his car peel out of the driveway.

Goddammit. Why do I always seem to fuck everything up? He is right. I never gave him the benefit of the doubt. I just assumed that he would fly off the handle if I went back to school with no real basis for my postulation. He had never denied me anything that I wanted. He always stood beside me if I had done something wrong or made a wrong decision.

Sure, in the past, if he didn't think something was in my best interest he would try to talk me down from it, and he sure as hell got mad at me when I made the wrong choices, but he had always been there.

I walk to my bedroom dejected and downright surly. I want to hit something, I want to smash something and destroy it, but I am not going to give into my childish tirade.

I strip and get into a hot shower, stretching under the hot spray to try and relax the tense muscles. Between Bella and James I am as stiff as a board, my nerves are in total chaos, and my head is pounding.

Nothing had gone as planned today.

I begin to think of Bella, and the monumental crash and burn of a break up that it turned out to be. Not only had I failed at ending our arrangement, I successfully turned it into a masterpiece of fuck-upedness. An evening complete with a dead husband mention, unspoken I love you's, and a very well deserved slapping, and oh yeah, more rule breaking. My mind starts to wander over those kisses and I stop myself. I don't deserve to dwell on those kisses.

What else could I have possibly done wrong tonight? It amazes me how I walk through life every day unscathed. I'd be surprised if she calls me again. It certainly won't end the way I want it to, but at least it would be over.

And now, I was on my way to losing James, too.

I lie in bed and go back through all of my memories of him and I, to find just one fucking time that James had denied me something that I wanted to have or do. I just wanted one instance to justify my totally absurd accusation.

Sure, he planned, instigated, and set up ninety percent of our previous endeavors, but that was always my choice to follow him. I chose to go along with everything, and the times that I did make a decision he followed behind me, next to me and sometimes in dangerous situations, in front of me.

My worry is mounting as I think about he stormed out so angry and distraught. It is with such irony that I realize that what I was trying so desperately to prevent, came out ten times worse with my acts to avoid such wrath. By not telling him in the first place, I have broken one of our bonds, inadvertently causing the very things to happen that I had worried over in the first place.

I never saw him the way I seen him today. He looked defeated when he walked out the door. I stay up most of the night, waiting to hear the front door open.

Can I really lose my best friend over this? After all the shit that I have done, this couldn't possibly be the worst thing I ever did. He will realize that…right?

I know there is nothing that I can do. At this point, it won't help if I drop my classes and pick back up my clients because it isn't about that. It never had been! This was about trust, and when it came down to it I hadn't trusted James to support my final decision.

I have to talk to him. I know when he lets stuff fester than it only gets worse.

I finally hear the front door creak open. I look at the clock and it is 3:45 in the morning. I wonder briefly if it would be better to have this talk when he is sober instead of the mess that I am sure that he is in, but I can't let it go. I jump out of bed and scamper into the living room to find Jessica.

I look around by James is not with her. "Where is James?"

She appears to be really uncomfortable, as I am suspecting that she didn't expect to see me. "James just asked me to pick up a few things for him."

"Why?" Panic sets in.

"Jasper, he is staying at the apartment for a while. He says you won't be needing it, and he said that there isn't enough room for you both here anymore."

"Fuck!" I pull at my hair in total uncertainty as to what to do next. Jessica moves to me and gathers me into her arms.

"Just give him time. He will come around Jazz. You really hurt him. I mean, really Jazz, when hasn't he been there for you?" She scolds me.

"I know. Don't worry; I am doing a pretty good job of punishing myself."

She sighs and pulls out of our embrace. "Give him a few days and then if he hasn't contacted you, go and see him. You know he loves you. He doesn't care about anyone or anything Jazz. Except you. You guys will work things out. You have to."

I wish I could be as confident as her. I follow her into James' room, and help her pack up his toiletries and some of the clothes that I know he likes the best.

"He's going to be alright though…right?" I ask Jessica when we are both at the door.

"Yeah, Jazz. I am not going to lie to you, he is definitely a little messed up over this right now, but he won't be looking for any trouble if that is what you mean. I will keep an eye out for him."

She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then scurries out the door with James' duffel bag.

I fall back into bed where slumber eludes me for another hour. Finally, I am allowed a few hours sleep before my alarm goes off. I had set it so that I could get used to getting up so early. Most of my courses are early in the morning, and since I am used to waking up mid-morning, I thought it would be a good idea to start training myself.

That shit isn't happening today. I smash the "off" button with my fist, and fall into another fitful sleep.

The weekend proved to be boring as hell.

I meander around the house aimlessly with absolutely nothing to do. I pack up my messenger bag with writing utensils, notebooks and such. I go on-line and find out which buildings my classes are in, and where the best possible parking and entrances are.

That took all of two hours.

I did laundry, cleaned up the house and bought groceries. I make a casserole that James loves, hoping that if he came home, he would have something good to eat.

Damn, I hate this. I need to know that he is okay. It is killing me that he won't return my phone calls. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that James and I are unhealthily dependent on each other, but there isn't anyone who can judge us unless they have walked in our shoes and lived our lives. We were pretty much all each other had for so many years. I have to find the confidence that he feels the same way and will be back. Soon.

It seems like a distant memory that I thought of leaving James behind once I got my feet on the ground at school. The idea is laughable. Sure, I want to get past the detrimental reliance we have on each other, but I will always want him close to me.

On Sunday night, I leave the house and drive to the apartment. I find the illuminated window to our apartment from the outside of the building. I notice that his car and Jessica's car are in the lot. Semi-relieved that he is not out getting drunk and starting some fight, as he usually does when he wants to let off some steam, I head back home.

It is of no real surprise that the night is full of bad dreams consisting of James, Bella and school.

XXXXX

I sling my messenger bag over my shoulder and head over to Pray Harold which is the building where three out of four of my classes are held. I walk to the building in a state of blissful numbness. There is no room for nervousness as my almost sleepless night consumes my identity, putting me in a zombie-like state. I don't make eye contact with anyone as I find the room to my first class. I stroll absentmindedly through the mass, into the building as students gather in the halls, some making their way to their classes, some socializing.

I hold the schedule in my hand, a sure sign that I am the new kid on the block. I keep my eyes trained on the schedule, even though I can feel eyes on me. After several minutes I find my first class, Modern American Literature, with only five minutes to spare. When I walk in I find the first available seat, still not wanting to make eye contact with anyone just yet.

I peek up through my lashes to see how many are in attendance. I arrived fifteen minutes early, so the class is pretty empty. Currently, there are about ten other students, setting up their workspace.

I pull out my laptop, notebook, and a sharpened number two pencil. I let my head lull back onto my shoulders, moving it from side to side as I try to work out the kinks from my fitful sleep, as well as the nervousness that is now waking up in me. I feel eyes on me again, so I turn my head to the side to see a boy staring at me. When I finally give in to the eye contact that he seeks, he quickly holds out a hand to me.

"Hi, I'm Peter. This is my girlfriend Charlotte. This is your first week here?" I reach for his hand, as a small slip of a girl peeks her head around him to wave. She has shoulder length, sandy blonde hair, and big green eyes. She is sitting now, but I venture to guess that she wouldn't reach my chest in height, and she is way too thin; almost fragile like. He on the other hand, is tall and fit. He had jet black hair and blue eyes, I didn't have to be a woman to see the obvious classic good looks that Peter had. Physically, they are night and day, but make a good looking couple nonetheless.

Deciding that they both look friendly enough, I shake his hand in a firm grip before letting it go. "Hey, I'm Jasper. Yeah, I registered pretty late."

"Well, if you want I can print you a copy of my notes that I have taken so far." Charlotte piped up happily.

It shocked me to see how nice they are being to me, but then I remembered why…they didn't know me. I am in a place where no one will recognize me for what I really am. I could blend in and effectively hide my true self between these walls. I can pretend to be like them. They will never have an idea about the kind of man they are talking to.

I respond affirmatively to her generosity. "I would really appreciate that." Charlotte smiles and blushes, making me realize that my southern accent made an appearance. I quickly look away not wanting Peter to think I am hitting on his girl.

She was pretty, I guess - in her own way, but definitely not my type. Peter looks instantly weary, and the reasoning is clarified in his next statement.

"So, Jasper, do you have a girlfriend?" He says too casually. Unfortunately, I have seen the signs too many times before. A lot of unnecessary fights, and needless arguments, caused by the jealousy of men that feared that I want what they have.

"Ummm, no. I just broke up with someone, and I am not ready to see anyone new. I think I just want to focus on my studies for a while." Peter looks satisfied. I am pleased with myself that I am able to diffuse the situation.

We talk for a few more minutes, waiting for the Professor to arrive. My eyes are trained on Peter during our conversation, just glancing at Charlotte once in a while, wanting Peter to see that my intentions with his girlfriend are of a platonic nature only.

I can see myself hanging out with these two once in a while. I can certainly use more friends and it seems like Peter and I have similar interests. We both like college sports, and he even forgave me for preferring Big Ten conference sports instead of EMU's Division One athletics, admitting that he too occasionally forgoes watching an EMU game for a Big Ten game.

When he confessed it, he had done so sheepishly, making him look like a young boy that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It makes me wonder if he has ever really done anything wrong in his entire life.

When class ended Charlotte reminded me that she would bring copies of her notes in on Wednesday. We part ways in the parking lot, but not before I notice that they both get into what appeared to be Peter's Jaguar XK, which brings up the obvious question of why he attends Eastern. Not that there is anything wrong with this school, it is just surprising that a guy with apparent bucketloads of cash would choose to go here.

Intriguing. A mystery from an otherwise boring looking couple. Maybe he has a darker side. I chuckle at my lack of surprise that it could very well be the case. I seem to have a knack for attracting troublesome individuals. Hell, my life revolved around them.

Besides a couple of my band mates, everyone I associate with is truly fucked with issues and baggage. I long for friends that live a normal existence, and have every day problems.

XXXXX

On Wednesday when I return to my Lit class, Charlotte, being good to her word stands by my previously held seat with a folder full of papers.

"I put them in a binder for you." She keeps her eyes averted as Peter heedlessly looks me down from head to toe. Again, I sense he is sizing me up as a threat to his relationship. He must have mentioned his concern to her as well, which is why I am assuming she will not look at me.

Apparently, if there is a friendship to be had here, it will definitely have to be nurtured first, where a level of trust will have to be established.

_Trust_. We know how good I am with that. I push agonizing thoughts of James out of my head.

"Thanks Charlotte, wow, you don't know how much I appreciate it." I scan through the notes to see color coded charts, with dividers between each chapter. The notes are detailed with the use of bold and italicize to emphasize importance.

I am pretty sure Charlotte has a serious case of OCD. Her clothes are always impeccable. She constantly smoothes them out when she finds a crease. Her desk is set up the same way. When she uses her pencil she puts it down and shifts it until it is in perfect position. She carries wet wipes in her bag and she must go through at least five of them each class, cleaning her computer, desk…etc.

When the lecture is over, I pack up and as we walk out to the parking lot Peter speaks up. "We should go out for a drink sometime, or get something to eat."

"Yeah, sure." I am happy that it appears he is getting over his issues, and that they want to hang out with me.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Peter asks. That immediately drops my spirits.

James is still staying at the apartment. I tried calling him yesterday, but I keep getting his voice mail. I called Jessica just to make sure everything is okay, and when she told me he was fine - minus a good dose of sulking, so I let it go, but I have every intention of getting him to come home this weekend. I miss him…it's lonely.

Besides, I also have Bella to deal with on Friday.

"Man, I have got a crap load to do this weekend. This is my first week here and it is going to take the better part of the weekend to process all of this, and try to catch up."

He agrees on another time and we say our goodbyes.

I walk away miserable, thinking about all that I had to do this weekend. It is not one that I am looking forward to.

XXXXX

I only have one more class this week. My Environmental Philosophy class. I approach Marshall Hall and make my way to class. I walk in, my confidence escalating with each day. Reminding myself that I was just an average guy to all of them I held my head up and perused the almost entirely full class for an empty seat. Finding a few empty desks near the back, I take the stairs to the second to the last row and pour my messenger bag onto the desk. I glance up and notice a girl; she turns to look at me and smiles shyly. I am absolutely not in the market for a girl…yet, but I am not blind either. I am instantly attracted to her, and I know why. She reminds me of someone else I know.

I stare at her, making her bold. She gathers her things together clumsily, and makes her way to a seat that is unoccupied next to me. Her wide brown eyes on mine as she hastily put her things in order. She peers up through her lashes and smiles again. "Hi, I'm Sarah."

"Hi Sarah, I'm Jasper." I can't help but smirk back. She is definitely a cutie. Her long mahogany hair cascades down her back and shoulders. She looks like a porcelain doll with her pale skin and ruby red lips. She stands approximately 5'3 in height and she has a slim, yet firm body, with perfectly sized mounds filling out her tight top. Her prominent features had obviously reminded me of Bella right away. The similarities are there but she had her own uniqueness about her, a completely different aura. She definitely isn't as hot as Bella, but she has great potential.

But I am not just looking for beauty. I will need a girlfriend that I have some things in common with, that I can enjoy intellectually as well as someone that knows how to have fun, and have a sense of humor. She also needs to be strong. I fully plan on telling my future girl about my past, after it becomes serious, of course. She will have to have the fortitude to overcome that.

I can't even believe I am already considering a girlfriend. I have to get my shit together first. For fucksakes, I am still a prostitute.

I won't be by the end of tomorrow. There is no other option, tomorrow Bella will be nothing more than history.

"Are you okay?" I didn't realize that I was rubbing my chest with my face screwed up into a grimace. Thinking of Bella did that to me…regularly.

"Yeah, I am fine. I was just reminding myself of something that I have to do tomorrow."

She smirks. "Well, from the looks of you, whatever it is, I am glad that I have nothing to do with it." She winks and turns back to her screen, leaving me grinning like a goofball at her profile.

I walk out of class smiling. Sarah and I had joked all through class. When we tried to be serious and take notes, her eyes would constantly flicker to me. I know she is interested, but I just am not ready for something more than flirting. It is in my best interest, as well as hers, to keep her at a distance…at least for a little while. Until I can get some things taken care of, I won't be able to give myself fully to anyone. But just the thought of being able to eventually makes my smile widen.

It is amazing and refreshing how this one week has completely altered my attitude at having something better in my life. Getting out and just being with other people is helping my self-esteem tremendously.

Thrusting Bella out of my life will be a huge step in that direction. She will be my ultimate sacrifice for this new life.

I have a feeling that without her in my life I will be able to move on. I reason that it will take time. I had made the catastrophic mistake of falling for her and I have the wherewithal to understand that I will be paying the consequences; it will be a swift and just punishment for my neglect of the golden rule of prostitution.

Falling in love with a client…who does that shit? _Leave it to me._ I have to chuckle at my own stupidity.

When I get home the house is dark and empty. Determined I picked up my phone to call James, I swear that if he doesn't answer the fucking phone I will be heading over there. At this point, I won't mind embarrassing one of his customers if there happens to be one there. I am putting an end to this shit.

The phone rings several times before his voicemail begins. I am starting to get pissed. I know I was wrong, but he had been right when he said our friendship was stronger than this. Much stronger, I only hope he still feels that way.

When his message ends I leave my own. "James pick up the goddamn phone. If you don't answer the next time I call I will be over there." I look at my watch. "It is now 5:02, if you don't pick up when I call you at exactly 5:07 I will be on my way over there. That's five fucking minutes you dickhead." I growl out the last part, before I jab at the "end" button on my phone. Damn. I should have used the house phone so I could have slammed it into the cradle, seriously needing the dramatics to possibly let go of some of my frustration.

I pace around with the telephone in hand, looking at the clock every fifteen, or so, seconds. Mumbling about how I didn't need this shit and that he better fucking answer.

It has been almost two minutes later when my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and see James name. "Dude, why didn't you answer?" I ask immediately.

"I am busy Jasper." He sounds tired.

"Come home." I demand, without tact.

"I told you I am busy."

"Come home afterward. Please." I beseech.

"I don't know…" He trails off.

"C'mon James, I know I was wrong. We need to talk about this."

He sighs into the phone. "We'll see. Look I gotta go."

"Okay." And with no other comment from James the phone clicks indicating the end of the phone call.

XXXXX

James didn't come home last night. Jessica called sometime in the middle of the night, and said that James was staying at the apartment again.

I lay in bed, my resolve is strong today. I know what I have to do.

I would take back what's mine, and let go of what never was.

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**AN: So review and let me know if you thought James was too hard on Jazz, too easy, or just as you expected. Also, we met some new peeps, including Sarah, who was mentioned briefly in Finding Relief.**


	15. A Delicious Downfall

**AN: I put a little blurb in my replies to all of you that reviewed about Sarah, even if you hadn't mentioned her in your own review. I hope you all understand what I was trying to say about what is to come.**

**I have been interviewed! Yes, by the most kick ass writer and beta around. My very own QueenBeta Cullen818 interviewed me on her blog! So go check it out and see what I have to say on writing, Finding Relief, Finding Forgiveness and the future. http (colon) / / JaspersDarlins (dot) blogspot (dot) com.**

**I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.**

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_**"Progress always involves risks. You can't steal second base and keep your foot on first." - Frederick B. Wilcox**_

**Chapter 15 – A Delicious Downfall**

With my head in my hands, I say the words over and over again.

_I can do this, I will do this, I want to do this. _I can't contain the snort.

It isn't what I want, but I'm used to not getting what I want.

I pick my head up to see a few people looking at me as though I'm a crazy person. _Yeah, I'm fucking talking to myself. _

This small shithole of a diner has some of the best food in town, that's why this rundown, dirty restaurant located in the seedier side of town is currently packed with a diverse crowd. Everyone from businessmen to women with their children, well, to street walkers such as myself, are here feasting on the local fare. Actually, I am just waiting for my ride.

_Bella_.

Rose needed my car, since her Audi S4 is in the shop getting detailed, and she has an appointment with a buyer. Rosalie obtained a real estate license so she could sell houses while she goes to school. She likes it because she makes her own hours, and since she sells only in upscale neighborhoods, she is able to check out the "hot and not" in fashion and home design. I had her drop me off here since the apartment is still otherwise being occupied. I refuse to stand at the post. I don't want to be associated with it anymore.

Jessica had called earlier to let me know that she and James were heading out to see a band at The Palace tonight. She advised me that James had bought the tickets especially for this night since he told her that I would need the apartment. It shouldn't surprise me that he remembered what I had to do tonight.

What the hell is going on with them two anyway? And where the hell is Carrie? You won't get any complaints out of me if those two broke it off again.

Whatever.

I will find out soon enough. James didn't know Rose had my car, so I will be there when he returns to the apartment, and I won't be able to get home without a ride from him. I almost laugh out loud at the thought of how thoroughly pissed he is going to be about that.

I look at my watch again, agitation building. Fuck! _I can do this._ Again the words came back fleetingly. _I just want to get this over with!_

_Oh, how I wish things could be different._ If only we could have met under different circumstances.

Just then I see her car outside the window.

_Well, here goes nothin'._

I leave a twenty on the table along with the bill, and head out the door quickly. I take one last shaky breath before I get in her vehicle. One look at her, and my face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. Every fucking time! How does she do that?

"Hey there." She whispers, sounding breathless. She leans over and pecks me on the cheek. The small display of affection is not lost on me. I smile at her profile, and the slight blush that now covers her cheekbone. I want to tease her about it, but I can't find an adequate level of comfort with her to do so, without blushing profusely myself, so to save the embarrassment on both of our parts, I let it go. However, a smidgen of hope bullies its way into recognition. My heart is not willing to count her out yet. Not surrendering until I have said goodbye and walked away for good.

_What do I think can possibly come of this? _

I grab her iPod to get myself to stop thinking for once. I put on an Aerosmith song. One I heard this week that reminded me of her. "Amazing"…and she is.

I glimpse at her, studying her contours, searching for some way that this exquisite woman, inside and out, could possibly want more with me. The chances are not on my side, my guess is that the bookie's would favor me with something close to a million-to-one odds.

After seeing Bella now, I can't believe that I compared Sarah to her. Sarah is pretty, young and naïve. Bella is beautiful, mature and smart. Sarah pales to Bella in almost every aspect. Sarah is the student, and Bella is the teacher. The only thing that Sarah has on Bella is that she has no idea who I really am.

I didn't deserve Bella, but I don't want anything less.

I probably have a chance with Sarah, but I want more.

I swivel around disgusted at the turn of my thoughts…yet again, and also afraid that I may have been staring at her for way too long. I peruse her backseat and notice that she has a present, and some cards on the seat. Birthday cards. One is opened enough so I can catch the handwriting at the bottom. "Happy Birthday Bella!"

I wonder how old she is.

She had once asked me my age during a time when I allowed her to ask me some personal questions, so I had told her, but I can't bring myself to ask her that same question, after I had declined answering so many of her own, during so many other occasions. But what it all boils down to, as per usual, is that I am just too worried I am going to be shot down over nothing more than asking her a trivial question. Trivial to her, that is. "Trivial" and "Bella" do not belong in the same sentence. Ever.

The curiosity eats at my gut though. It is hard to say how old she is, and I was never real good at guessing ages, especially for girls. Her face and body appear to be in the early twenties, but her eyes tell a different story. She's already seen so much, been through something as tough as losing a spouse already. Enduring an experience like that can easily put a few extra years on someone's face.

"What are you looking for?" She says when she notices that I am looking into her backseat.

"Nothing." I try to say innocently enough. She forms a smile on her face chuckling airily, she shakes her head slightly, as she forces her eyes to return to the road.

_Birthday, huh?_ Let's see…how can I use this information to my advantage? I want to do something for her birthday. What can I do?

_Duh – break it off with her._ The reality is like an ice cold shower.

So, I am going to end this on her birthday. I wonder if it will affect her at all. Will she always remember this birthday as the one that her prostitute backed out on her? Will I forever taint what is supposed to be a special day for her in her memory? She won't be able to remember her birthday without having to recall the time she spent with me. What kind of birthday present will it be…good or bad?

My attitude turns sour by the time we arrive at the apartment. I notice Jessica's vehicle in the lot, but I don't see James' so I know that they are gone.

As soon as I open the door I hear the TV on, and glance over at Bella, who looks like she is about ready to seriously freak out. "Is someone here?" She asks silently, her eyes wide with terror.

"No, James has been staying here the last few nights. He had a fight with his girlfriend." Yeah, I lied. It's not like I wouldn't have liked to talk to her about this. I would love to. Bella would be perfect for the job. Not only am I positive that she would offer comfort and warmth, she would also provide a much desired unbiased ear. Everyone else I know already has their opinion on James and my friendship, positive or negative, so any kind of advice I would get from them would be contaminated. But, fortunately for her, Bella did not come here to be burdened with my meaningless debacle of a life. She came here to get fucked, and that is what I plan on doing.

"Girlfriend? You guys can have girlfriends? Does she know what he does?" She asks strictly from curiosity. Clearly her expression shows that she is not in any way judging me, but it still pisses me off, because it is inconsiderate. She must really think I am some kind of machine with no feelings. _How did she think I was going to take that question?_ She probably thinks I am used to these kinds of remarks…and she's right. I have been asked a lot worse. People have made comments to me while I am working that people shouldn't say to other human beings, but I always shake it off. Most of the time feelings don't even register, but when statements similar to that come from Bella it is like a stab of a knife.

So I do what any other person would do in my position, and I lash back. "Yeah, Bella, we can have girlfriends. We are human. We do a job, just like you do. Some of us have people we go home to."

Her chocolate orbs double in size at my words, and I immediately want to take them back. I didn't want to have a repeat of last week. Angry sex has its merits occasionally, but it isn't in the plan for tonight. It is her birthday for christsakes. I just want to enjoy this last time with her, and then send her on her fucking way, so I can begin the healing process.

"Okay, okay." She holds her hands up, thankfully giving up on this conversation.

She seems undecided about something, so I turn away, giving her time to work through what is going on in that head of hers. I scan the area, noticing that James cleaned up the place pretty good. His running shoes are by the door. I kick them quickly into the closet, so they don't spook Bella.

When I turn back to her she has a huge grin plastered on her face, and that's all it ever takes for me to grin from ear to ear. She counts out the money, and it takes me a good second to realize that it is a hundred more than I usually charge her. She sets the money down with a mischievous smile, which leads me to believe that she knows full well that she is putting down too much.

_Is she giving me a tip? Seriously? Not tonight…please. _

I can't handle any more complications.

"Three hundred dollars?" I ask. Begging her to realize it is a mistake.

"Well, according to your "menu" that you gave me I believe oral for you and me was one hundred and fifty, each." If my feet weren't planted firmly on the ground I am pretty sure I would stumble back…but as it were, I am frozen in place.

I am well aware that my shock is on full display, and she can very obviously see it painted across my features. For the life of me, I can't figure out how to shut my mouth. It hangs wide open at the thought of what she is requesting of me tonight…of all fucking nights.

It seems like fate. This evening is destined to be bittersweet, but at the same time a fucking awesome way to say goodbye. Since I have been seeing her I have always wanted to share this experience with her. I've wanted my mouth on her pussy, I've wanted to run my tongue along her folds, and taste her essence when she came all over my face. And fuck, I've wanted her hot little mouth on my swollen shaft. I've wanted her pouty lips around me as she sucks me off. My cock hardens immediately. I grab her hand to lead her back to the room, as I silently plead with my dick not to cum prematurely.

Too wrapped up in my own thoughts, I don't notice right away that I am starting to feel resistance from her walking behind me. I pull harder, only to meet more resistance. _What the fuck?_

I turn my head to see her looking into the living room as we passed. "Hey angel, can we watch the rest of this game? There is only a few more innings left and this is an important game."

I pause at the use of her term of endearment. She has never called me anything but "Jazz" before. She could call everyone "angel" for all I know. The waitress at the diner calls me "sweetie" every time James and I eat there, so it's not like it's not possible. Maybe it is in her nature to do so, but her calling me "angel", as insignificant as it may seem to her, makes my stomach tighten up in a huge coil.

I am not one to throw around terms like that. It had surprised me the first time I called her "Darlin'". My dad used to call my mom that. I had never used it myself before, but with Bella it came easily. It has slipped out a few more times since the first, and even though I try to rein it in, I still can't help but notice how right it feels.

Trying to control a fit of tantrum, I let go of her hand so we can watch the rest of this stupid baseball game. I loathe baseball, but since James' is a fan of the Tigers, I've sat through it enough to know what is going on.

If having to watch baseball isn't enough, I am less than thrilled to realize that she can't even be a fraction as excited as I am since she didn't race me to the bedroom, like I totally would have been game for. Fuck! I just have to calm down. It's going to happen. What did it matter if we wait a few extra minutes? Seriously, man-fucking-up.

My poor excuse for a pep talk did nothing to appease the pressure in my jeans. I don't even fake interest in the game as I stare blankly out the patio window. Her sweet body is pressed up against mine invitingly. My hand itches to hold hers, my lips ache to taste her skin, and she is so fucking close. I turn my head slightly, and nonchalantly breathe in deeply, inhaling her unique scent.

Even though I would rather be somewhere else with her right now, I can't help but savor being this close to her without us engaging in physical activities. It is strange to have her this close, and of her own freewill, without requesting the services for which she pays for. It was _her_ that practically sat on top of me when we seated ourselves on the sofa, it was _her_ that leaned into me, and she asks for nothing in return. She isn't expecting me to touch her, kiss her or even look at her.

Totally engrossed in the game, I am not even sure that she is aware that her hand lands on my thigh. I suppress a groan when she squeezes lightly, but I can't seem to stop myself from visualizing spending everyday being like this; us winding down on the sofa after dinner, sitting closely, telling each other about our days. I love being with her like this, but this isn't something I can get accustomed to.

_So close, yet so fucking far away._

I banish those thoughts as I focus on the present. The crowd noise from the TV helps me return to reality. I hadn't realized that I had been massaging Bella's neck. I don't know how long I have been doing it, but it looks like she is thoroughly enjoying it. I can see her breath come out in short pants as her chest rises and falls in small rapid successions. I shift again in my seat, trying to find a new position that offers the slightest bit of relief for my raging hard-on.

I am at an impasse. I don't want this night to end, but I also do not want to drag it out. This is killing me. The anticipation of what is to happen in that bedroom, and then the dread of watching her walk out that door afterward.

"Look, that homer pretty much sealed the game. Are we done here?" I try unsuccessfully to remain passive, but I can't hold back the small amount of excitement that demands attention.

"Well, I don't know…if they don't win this game, they won't make it to the play-off's." She looks thoughtful for a moment. I put my hands through my hair roughly as it takes every bit of effort to restrain myself from lifting her caveman style, and hauling her into the bedroom without permission. As if she reads my thoughts I hear a giggle. I think hard to see if I may have said something out loud and when I convince myself that I didn't I turn my head to look at her. Her small hand covers her smile, as her cheeks redden.

_Well, that little brat…_

I can't believe she put me through this torture for fun. _Paybacks are a bitch._

I rise and give in to my most recent fantasy. I pull her up and toss her over my shoulder. I give her a solid swat on her bottom. "You think you can play with me, huh, I'll make you sorry for that."

I move quickly through the apartment to the bedroom, and drop her onto the bed. We stare hard at each other, she looks at me oddly. She looks sad, as if she knows that we are at the conclusion. My eyes close briefly, and then open attempting to convey the message my heart says with every single beat.

_I won't forget you._

My fingers reach for the hem of my shirt. She notices the action and raises herself to her knees in front of me and grabs the material next to my own hands. I let go, allowing her to remove my t-shirt for me.

After she pulls the shirt over my head, my arms come down and my hands dive into her thick mane. I press her face forward so there is less than an inch separating our mouths. Our breaths wash over each other's faces. Her eyes flutter close and she leans in. Knowing she wants a kiss I turn away. _Too much._

Her lips land on my chin, and she takes her time placing wet kisses along my throat and jaw. My hands tighten in her hair as her teeth graze my collarbone.

As my hands continue to get lost in her chocolate tresses, her fingers ghost along my ribs down my abdomen, following my blonde trail to the button of my jeans. "Fuck." She gasps when the button releases. I glance down and notice that she is looking at my erect cock peeking out from the top of my jeans. Her mouth becomes frantic on my chest, and I have to slow her down before I come unglued. Her lips wreak havoc as she bites and flicks at my nipples and piercing. A white heat already beginning to blaze in my stomach.

I shimmy out of my denim and they fall to the floor. I kick them to the side needing desperately to take control of this situation, as it is becoming out of hand too fast. Her eyes fix on my dick and she lowers her head fully intending on taking advantage of what she has paid for.

My god, she would have me cumming in two seconds flat. I'll be done before she removes any of her own clothes.

I pull her back gently by the hair, and she looks confused as her eyes meet mine. She questions me silently. I pull her up to me so that I can press her phenomenal body against mine.

"Slow down Darlin', we have plenty of time." I say, while applying small kisses to the base of her neck. My tongue peeks out, and slashes the area before making its ascent up to her beautiful lobes. I take one into my mouth and suck gently. "You have got way too many clothes on." I whisper thickly.

I make quick work of removing her outer clothes; taking just a little bit of extra time to enjoy removing her lingerie underneath. I push her back on the bed and immediately follow. Lying directly on top of her we both groan, relishing the feeling of each other's naked forms being tightly pressed to one another. Instinctively, our hips grind together as my dick seats itself nicely in her center.

I wrap my arms around her, smashing her breasts to my chest. Our faces are inches apart; the need to kiss her is just overwhelming. It hadn't bothered me as much before when I hadn't kissed a girl in so long, but now that I had a taste of her last week, and felt that sweet intimacy, I want it again. I know she wants it too, but I have to withhold, and it helps that I know she understands. Her face turns into my arm that is placed around her, and she kisses it tenderly. So I trail open, hot, wet kisses down her chest, as if I am kissing her mouth. I devour her collarbone, sucking and nipping on it as if it I am tasting her lips once again.

Her tits receive the same treatment as I bathe them with all the desire I feel for her. I take turns with each side, flicking the nipple with my tongue before I suck it into my mouth gently. I cup the other breast, sliding my thumb over the peak before I pinch it softly. Twisting and pulling with enough pressure to make her moan deep in her throat. I adore her "normal" voice, but I love her "sex" voice. It is much deeper, and every time she graces me with it, my whole body clenches deliciously.

She is writhing underneath me, and it is time. I move lower, toward my target. Finally. I don't know if this is going to be a good or bad thing that I am going to get this pleasure before we finalize our too brief relationship. Another memory I am not so sure won't be haunting me in the months to come.

My hope is that this will turn into a fond memory that occurred during a bad time in my life. My hope is that one day I will be able to look back on today and think that, while I had made some wrong choices, there was that girl…what was her name?

I smile into her stomach. I will never forget her name…for that I am sure. I smell the sweet temptation that I am inching toward. Her aroma is simply tantalizing. My mouth waters as I make the trip downward. I swirl my tongue around the silky flesh of her belly button before diving into it. Preparing her for what's to come about four inches south. My fingers still nimbly plucking at her nipples, as she bucks her hips up against my chest soaking it with her juices.

_Don't waste it all there Darlin', I am on my way._

My kisses become more frenzied as her aroma makes my senses go awry. I'm a little crazy with want and need. I decide to torture us both by stretching this out for a little longer. I suck and nip at the slightly protruding hipbone. Making my way to other side, I skim over her beautifully manicured pussy. I tease the other hipbone while I move her legs to a bending position. I scoot down in between her legs and place chaste kisses on her inner thigh, hopefully leaving her wanting more. I glimpse up to see if I am succeeding, but I am not seeing what I expect in her eyes.

I expect want, need, desire, passion, lust. But that isn't what I see, and I can't decipher it. She acknowledges my silent question and she shakes her head almost sadly. That is when it hit me…what I think I see. _Holy fuck._

_Love and affection._ It can't fucking be. Even if it is, she is a smart woman and she comprehends the situation. She wouldn't say the words because she can't. I couldn't either. We started out on the wrong foot; we couldn't hit rewind and start over. This is impossible, and we both know it.

But we still have this.

I go back to doing what I was, but I bite down hard on the soft skin of her inner thigh as unwanted emotions suffocate me. I am starting to consider the possibility that she is having similar type feelings as I am. Can it be true? Could she be feeling the same way, and she feels like she can't say anything either? We are in a precarious position, neither one of us wanting to surrender our feelings to one another, leaving ourselves wide open to all kinds of hurt and rejection. It would be too hard for us to put it all out on the line, with only the smallest of hopes that the other will return the sentiments.

But oh, the fucking thought. My mood turns fucking ecstatic, because for the first time I really don't know what is going to happen tonight, and the thought thrills me.

I lick the spot where I bit her and then nip and suck up and down her thigh. Remembering earlier how she had teased me, I decide to give her a taste of her own medicine and make her suffer just a bit longer. I position my hands under her ass, preparing for a feast, and I settle my mouth just above her, making sure my hot breath hit her dripping cunt…and I wait.

"Jaaazzz." She groans in frustration.

"What do you want Darlin'?" I whisper directly over her clit. Her inner thighs squeeze my chest tightly and her hips rise infinitesimally. I had a feeling she was coming close to losing it and I know I can't deny her much longer.

I look up at her just as she releases an agonized moan. "Please…"

"Please what? What do you want Bella?" I whisper in my own brand of torment. Her punishment for teasing me is starting to affect me equally.

_Say something, and end this._

"I want you to fuck me with your tongue…please Jazz…" She requests urgently. _Oh fuck yeah!_

I take my first taste of her by tonguing her folds, merely ghosting over her clit quickly, not wanting her to find her climax too soon. She confirms my suspicions of her readiness when I hear her breathless whisper. "Oh God, Jazz…that feels…so…shit…please."

I glance up through my lashes at her; entranced as her eyes disappear behind her eyelids, fascinated by the bead of sweat that makes a trail from her jaw down the column of her enticing neck, seduced by the tongue that darts out and slashes across her top lip.

The last brings thoughts of what is to come next. The thought of those lips and tongue on my cock send me into overdrive and I begin to tongue fuck her heartily. But I want more.

I lift my head and practically yell. "Bella, scream my name. Don't forget to scream my name." At that point, I make love to her pussy; I can't get enough of her intoxicating flavor. My tongue delves into her folds taking as much pleasure as I am giving.

"Jaaazzz!" She screams as her orgasm takes hold, her hips lifting off of the bed. I hold her to me fast, not allowing any of her juices to be wasted. When I am satisfied that I have cleaned her up properly I crawl back up, and lay down next to her. She looks so tired and I want so badly just to say, _"Stay" _and we can finish what we started tomorrow.

Even if I had the nerve, I couldn't. Not with James coming back. I have some unfinished business with him to clear up tonight, and nothing is going to get in the way of that.

I lay on my back with my arm resting over my eyes. She quickly follows me, so that her head is lying on my chest. I wrap my arm around her and we lay together…cuddling, I guess. If there is a heaven, this would be it.

"That was wonderful. Thanks Jazz."

"You're welcome."

I remove my arm so that I can look over at her. She is gazing at me intently. We stare at each other, trying to read each other's minds.

_What are you thinking? Do you want more from me too?_

We stare at each other for too long, but we don't avert our eyes. This silent interaction should have been broken some time ago, but we continue to gaze deeply. I silently beg her to tell me her secrets.

Instead, she gives me a wickedly sexy smile as she moves over top of me, sliding down my body seductively. "Jazz, that wasn't a very nice thing to do…you know…teasing me like that."

_Oh no._

As she French kisses her way down my body she lifts her head to taunt me again. "And it wasn't very smart…seeing how we are in this position now…don't you think?" Her head tilts so I can see her tongue explore my belly button.

My head falls back on the pillows and I groan. I don't think I could handle any more teasing at this point. The head of my cock was purple and in severe need of a release. I worry that I won't know how to put it off. I have been imagining this for too long, wanting it too badly, and needing it too much.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" I beseech.

"Nope." She says cheerfully, saying the word with a pop, which elicits another painful groan from me.

_I'm screwed._

She lowers herself over my straining member and breathes on it. My cock twitches so hard it hit her in the nose. I can tell that she wanted to laugh, and for the moment it took my mind off of the situation, I wanted to laugh too. But then she starts running her nose back and forth along the length and it feels so fucking good.

She startles me when her hand grazes my ball sac.

"So, what do you want Jazz?" Fuck!

What can I say? She knows I'm not allowed. It is against the rules. I've already broken way too many rules with Bella. I silently beg her to give in, but she raises a brow and takes my cock in her tiny hand, caressing it. Her mouth lowers and slides one of my balls into her mouth. I lost my vision for a moment when she did that. My neck arching as I allow the feelings to consume me.

"Jazz, I am waiting for you to answer me." She says softly. My eyes pinch shut in utter and complete frustration.

_What does she want from me?_ She knows the goddamn rules.

I open my eyes pleading with her to give up. I reach my hands forward cupping her cheeks; both of my thumbs rub over her lips, twisting them in my strong pursuit to get my nonverbal point across. My hands lower to now cup her neck as I lower her over my throbbing, and neglected dick.

I see her reluctance and then silent approval and admiration at how I handled that. Her teeth scrape softly from base to tip, before she licks the tip of my cock, gathering the white liquid at the tip on her tongue. She rolls her tongue in her mouth, savoring the taste like a fine wine, and then swallows. A small "mhmm" escapes her lips.

Finally she takes the head of my cock in her mouth before sucking in as much as she could. It didn't take long for her to find a rhythm as she sucks my cock superbly. Her tongue swirls as her head bobs up and down.

"Oh God…Bella." I can't stop the words that flow out of mouth any more than I can the grunts and hisses that follow. I watch her lips as they wrap around my cock, creating a vacuum. I don't know how many times this exact image alone helped me through some of my tougher times with clients, and the imagery never even came close to the reality of it. I find that the reality is almost frightening in its intensity. Bella's kneeling in between my legs, her silkened hair, flowing across my abdomen and thighs, as her sexy mouth milks me. That is just the physical part. The feelings and emotions that bombard me at this moment are extreme.

This isn't just sex for me. It is about the girl…the dream; the yearning to have this without the exchange of money, without the undisclosed desires, without all the uncertainty.

My stomach clenches and my balls tighten. I try to hold off my orgasm as long as I can. Her lips focus on my head, swirling and sucking on the knob as her tongue caresses the rim. Her hand pumps the rest of my shaft slow and then fast, steady and then disjointed, and then I can't fucking take anymore. "Bella, God…I am going to cum so fucking hard."

"Scream my name." She says before she takes as much of me down her throat as she can, bobbing up and down frantically.

The kaleidoscope reveals itself before my eyes as my climax rockets through me.

"Belllllaaaa!" My cock jumps and then releases it contents in her hot mouth; shooting stream after stream of hot cum down her throat. She pulls my softening penis out of her mouth and licks every side before sucking it back into her mouth once more.

I am literally, and figuratively, drained.

She looks completely satisfied with herself as she climbs up my body and resumes her previous position, lying across my chest. I hold her to me tightly, wanting this for just five more…

My eyes snap open when I realize that I am about to fall asleep. Then I don't see Bella. Shit. I did fall asleep. I look at the clock and notice that I must have only dozed off for five minutes - tops. _Where is she?_

Tell me she didn't leave. Please tell me she wouldn't leave.

I hear the shower and I look over the side of the bed to see that her clothes are still lying on the floor. I also notice my shirt is missing.

_Fuck me._ She put on _my_ shirt and now…she is in _my_ shower.

She really put herself out there for me tonight. When I asked to tell me what she wanted she had let go of her inhibitions and did what I asked. I owe it to her to give up a few of my own. I jump out of bed.

I decide that I don't want to leave this arrangement with any regrets. Maybe if I put myself a little out there she would reciprocate in kind and eventually we can really get down to the bottom of what our association means to each other.

I think it is high time for a little birthday celebration. I take a foil package from the drawer, applying the condom, and enter the steamy room quietly to slip in behind her as she is wetting down her hair and body. Watching the rivulets of water flow down the arch of her back, making the path down her gorgeous ass, makes me rock hard instantly.

"You weren't supposed to let me fall asleep, Darlin'." My hands snake around her, gathering her close to me as I bury my nose in her shoulder and inhale deeply.

"You looked so peaceful…" She ends with a small moan. I place my open mouth on her shoulder drinking in the water and flavor of her. I hold her hair up, and to the side, so I can continue my journey across the back of her neck. I push her hair off to one side to free my hands to cup her perfect tits. I focus attention on her distended peaks, circling them with my thumb as I persist in ravaging her neck and shoulders with my lips, tongue and teeth.

She relaxes into me, and lays her head on my shoulder, allowing me access to more of her neck. I trace the newly exposed area with my tongue before scraping my teeth along it. I free one of her breasts and press my palm against her heated cheek. My fingers trace over her succulent lips. I wish it were my lips instead of my fingers, and I simulate what I would do if they were by French kissing her shoulder. She licks my finger…and I lose it.

I turn her around quickly, grab her by the ass and hoist her up against the wall. Her legs find purchase around my waist and I dive into her wet pussy with ease. I move her hips in circles over me, as I press deeper into her. She is so wonderfully tight.

I follow her hands down my chest and watch as she massages my pec's. That is when my world flips upside down.

The ring. It's gone.

My eyes dart back up to hers full of questions. Does that mean she may have taken it off because she is ready for more? Surely, she isn't seeing anyone; otherwise she wouldn't be here with me…right? Could she have taken it off for me?

I push her back against the wall so I can start pumping fast and furious. "Bella, you feel…fantastic…why do you make me lose control?…Oh…fffuu…cum on my cock, darlin'…please." I reach between us to stroke her sweet spot, trying to get her there with me.

I bury my head in her shoulder, as I go a little bit insane. I don't know whose orgasm starts first, but we manage to finish at the same time. Our heads lay on each others shoulders, and as we struggle for breath my pessimistic side puts in its two cents. Maybe she just forgot to put it on tonight. Maybe it is sitting next to her sink at home, accidentally abandoned.

Boy oh boy, it hadn't taken me too long to get a big head because I was starting a new life. I can't forget that Bella knows the "old me".

I study her as I remember earlier, when she had looked down at me. It almost seems like it is possible that I am not imagining what I saw. I couldn't even envision what this would mean to me if she took such a significant step, as to remove her wedding ring, for me.

My mood is soaring. I chuckle softly. "Happy Birthday Bella."

XXXXX

As I wait for James to arrive I can't keep the smile off my face. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins at what I have decided to do.

When Bella left she asked me if I was working on Thursday, and I told her that I wasn't. I didn't want to go into any more detail, since she had already paid and received her services, so I left it at that.

My plan is to call her on Friday before she normally comes and ask if she wants to go out on a date instead.

I am going to put it all out there. She can take it or leave it, but I now know I would always wonder "what if" if I don't. The thought scares the shit out of me, but if Bella wants me, I am hers, and I would be honored to call her mine.

I grab a beer from the fridge trying to calm my raging nerves. As I am taking my first pull from it James walks in. He doesn't notice me right away. He looks worn. I forget about Bella for the moment to fix this little issue.

"Hi." I simply say. We'll see where he wants to go with this.

His eyes pop up and he stares me up and down. "Is she still here? I didn't see your car." He starts putting back on his shoes.

"No, man. She's gone."

He eyes me again. "Everything okay? Where is your car?"

"Rosie needed it."

"Ahh." He shakes his head. "So you are stuck here? Why didn't you have her drop you somewhere?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

He looks resigned, but he puts a finger up to stall me. "Wait a minute."

He wanders into his room and I wait. After I am finished with my beer I wonder what the hell is taking him so long. Did he forget about me and go to bed or something? I walk back there to see him gathering his things. "Whatcha doin'?"

"What does it look like? I'm coming home. I miss my bed." He says as he stuffs clothing into his duffel.

We make our way home mainly in silence until James finally speaks. "Sooo, did everything go okay tonight?" He takes small glances in my direction as he drives.

I hesitate, but I quickly decide that I can't make the same mistake I did before and not tell him, so I opt for truth. "I didn't tell her. I decided tonight that I am going to ask her out on a date next week. I want a relationship with her."

James looks incredulous. "Are you serious? I mean, I'm happy that you want one… Man, are you sure you are ready for that? How much thought have you put into this?"

Yeah…that is why I don't tell James anything. Automatic buzz kill.

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**AN: Sorry Jazz, I kinda agree with James there. So, it looks like Jazz and James are in the middle of patching things up, and Jasper is finally willing to put himself out there for Bella – ready or not? What do you guys think? You know I would love to hear your thoughts.**


	16. Absolving the Obsession

**AN: This is JPOV of Chapter 18 in **_**Finding Relief**_**.**

**I tried to keep this chapter as light as possible…a lot of dialogue. This is kind of the calm before the storm. A couple of you suggested to me that you may not be able to read the next couple of chapters, and while I completely understand because I have done it too, I just urge you to at least scan through them. Jasper is going to be going through some things you may not want to miss. Anyway, I am leaving it at that.**

**In case you haven't noticed I have a new story that came out last weekend called **_**Love At First Sight**_**. It is a Jasper/Edward slash fic so if you are squeamish about these two hotties getting it on you will not like this story. If you don't mind though, please go check it out! This will be a multi-chaptered fic, but there should be no worries, it will not change the frequency for which I post this story.**

**If you like my story, or any other ones that have lemons, please sign the petition to have FFn consider revising the "M" rating or reinstate the "NC17" rating. Stories are beginning to be pulled and the next one could be your favorite. The petition is found at http (colon) / www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/ s / 5734048 / 1 / Petition**

**QueenBeta Cullen818 rocks!**

**I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

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"_**Nothing's new, and nothing's true, and nothing matters." - Lucretius (Titus Lucretius Carus)**_

**Chapter 16 – Absolving the Obsession **

"NOOOO SHIT?" Rosalie says flabbergasted. Smiling widely, she jumps up from her chair and shoves me back into the cushions of the couch. "Are you being totally serious?"

I smirk in return. "No lie."

She takes her seat again, her face full of happy astonishment. "You quit the biz, AND you are going to school?"

"Yep." I answer.

"You piece of shit. Why didn't you tell me in advance, so I could help you pick out classes?"

"I really needed to do this by myself." I glance over at James who is sitting in the recliner, chilling with a beer, watching the scene unfold.

Before James and I had come home last night we went out to get something to eat at the very diner Bella came to pick me up at. Neither one of us were really all that hungry. I think we both had the same ulterior motive. James wanted to talk this out just as much as I did.

We hashed it out, which took about five minutes, and when we fell into comfortable bouts of silence it assured me that James and I were on good terms again.

He had asked me questions about school, looking genuinely interested. I told him about my classes, and meeting Peter and Charlotte. He told me that he broke it off with Carrie permanently. He didn't tell me why, but I assumed that it has something to do with Jessica. I opted not to get him frustrated so I decided to wait until today to ask him what is up with him and her.

I didn't mention Bella again and either did he. I suppose that was for the best, but I did want someone to share in my happiness, so I called the only other person that had somewhat of a vested interest in my life.

Rosalie had been excited just to get a call from me. I don't even know when the last time I made an effort to call her without her initiating it one way or another. She came over with an entourage to drop off my car. She had two people from the shop that had taken care of her car following her. One driving her car and the other driving his own vehicle, so he could be take the person driving Rosalie's car back to their shop.

"So, what finally brought all this on?" She inquires thoughtfully.

"Well…" I hesitate. I would have preferred to discuss this without James in the room, knowing how he feels about the situation. I didn't need him rubbing any of his negative vibes onto Rosalie. I glimpse over at him, but his face shows nothing. He doesn't look like he did yesterday. He doesn't give the impression of being skeptical or cynical. He stares at me with a blank face, as if he doesn't know the reason yet either.

It actually throws me off for a minute; I shake my head to gather my jumbled thoughts. "I…umm…am going to start seeing someone."

"OH MY GOD!" She looks as though she is going to swoon. "Who is she?" She screeches.

"Well, her name is Bella, and she is fantastic." I say with a smile.

"I can't believe this, but I knew since you wouldn't attend counseling - that this would be the only way. Oh my God! Did you meet at school?" She asks, excitedly.

I glance quickly over at James who promptly puts his head down, petting Bruiser, who is perched on his lap. I listen to the cat purring from the distance, trying to find the most prudent way to say this. Rosalie looks at the two of us, completely confused.

"Umm…no we didn't meet at school. She is actually a client…I mean, an ex-client of mine." I blurt without preamble.

_Dammit._

It would have been hard to miss Rosalie's eyes flicker to James, as if she needs to confirm that what I am saying is for real. Her eyes return to mine, but her smile seems forced. "Oh." She says shakily. "So, that's nice that she wants to have more." Her eyes dart again to James, silently asking him to say something, but I am not sure what. I don't think he knows either, as his eyebrows shoot up at her silent plea.

"Well, I haven't asked her yet. I'm going to ask her on a date this weekend." I say slowly as I look back and forth between the two of them.

Rosalie makes it perfectly obvious that she is leveling James with a murderous glare, as if asking him how the hell he could allow this to happen.

_What. The. Fuck?_

Finally, James has had enough. "What? He's a grown up Rose. He makes his own decisions."

"What the fuck? I am sitting right here!" I say disbelievingly.

"Jasper, I'm just worried that this isn't going to work out how you have planned. How do you know she wants to see you in any other capacity?" Rosalie tries tact.

_Good question. How did I know?_

"All I can do is ask. It's not a big deal. If she says no, she says no." I make it sound that easy, even though it probably isn't.

Maybe I shouldn't come right out and ask her yet. Maybe I should see her again, try to get to know her better. Maybe I should take this slower…think about it a little more.

Fuck! They are making me doubt myself.

I growl out my frustration as I rake my hands through my hair. "Look. Thanks for all of your fucking support guys." I stand up, effectively ending this painful visit. "Well, thanks for stopping over Rosalie." I turn to walk toward the door to let her out, and she follows behind.

"Sorry, Jazz, I was just a little surprised that's all. C'mon…" She beseeches. She grabs my hand, slowing me down so she can jump in front of my path.

"Let's go out and celebrate. We can get dressed up all nice, and go somewhere fancy." She says with too much enthusiasm…too much to be considered sincere. I am unconvinced at her quick change of attitude, and she recognizes my reluctance to regain my jovial mood.

She gives me the puppy dog eyes and the sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. "Pretty please? I just bought a new dress. It will give me an excuse to wear it."

Fake or not, her good-natured attempts at being happy for me ultimately did me in. "Fine." I cave.

"You can come too, jackass." She says looking around me to James.

"As fun and exhilarating as that sounds, I am going to have to pass. I have plans." He walks into the foyer, and we all stand by the front entrance.

"Really?" Rosalie pretends shock. "You could actually get someone else to hang out with you besides Jazz?"

James sends a sarcastic laugh her way. "I don't hear your phone ringing off the hook? Where are all your friends, Rosie?"

"I can't help it that girls are totally jealous of all this." She says as she waves a hand across her face and body.

"Yeah? Well, what about the men Rose? I don't see hoards of men fighting for your attention? Actually I don't even see one."

"Fuck off James."

He laughs heartily at that. "Exactly." He pulls her into a bear hug that she half-heartedly struggles to try to get out of. "That personality of yours only attracts venomous snakes."

She hits him in the shoulder until he finally releases her. "Whatever, fucktard."

"You're such a lady Rosie." He quips.

They finally remember that I am still in the room, which is fine with me. I enjoy watching their banter. They are the only two people I truly had in my life, and I like when they managed to get along once in a while.

"Hey Jazz. I was listening to the CD that you have in your car. Who is that?" Rosalie asks.

"That's _my_ band."

James snorts behind me. "Niiice one. Maybe you'd have known that if you ever took the time to hang out with him and the group once in a while." James chides playfully, while he picks up Bruiser, who had been rubbing against his leg, scratching him under the chin, while whispering baby talk. He has completely given up the act of apathy when it comes to my cat.

Rosalie didn't appreciate James comment and displays her annoyance by giving him "the look". The look all women have; the death glare that cuts the balls right off of a man, and as expected, James holds up his free hand in surrender.

"Can I borrow it?" She says, speaking to me, but still shooting daggers at James, fully prepared to take him down if he utters one more smart-assed comment.

James wisely keeps his mouth shut.

"Sure." I grab the keys and run out to my vehicle.

As I am walking back toward the front door I hear James and Rosalie whispering furiously.

I slow down, wanting to try to grasp the gist of the conversation, as I'd bet everything I own that they are discussing my decision to ask Bella out.

"Y'wanna take steps back or forward with him? Just keep your mouth shut. Let's just decide to be here for him when the shit hits the fan." I hear James say.

_Such faith. _

"But I just can't…" She whispers, but James interrupts.

"Don't Rose." He says firmly.

She huffs. "Fine, but I am still going to push…" I can't hear anymore as her voice trails off into an even lower whisper.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." James says in a normal voice, signaling the end of their conversation. I see him ushering her toward the open door, so I act like I am just walking in as they are making their way out onto the porch.

I'd be lying if I said I am not disappointed that they didn't believe that I had a chance with Bella, and even though it appears that they have zero confidence that things are going to work out for me it is still good to know that they will be there for me if needed.

I decide to let the conversation go, as it is seemingly harmless.

I give her the CD and she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before sauntering to her automobile. James and I watch just outside the door as she slowly circles her vehicle; giving it the once over to make sure they took care of her car while it was in their care. She bends down and rubs out something on the passenger door.

I make my way back in the house, with James following a few steps behind me. As he shuts the door behind him, he snickers.

"Well, she took that better than I thought she would." He muses. I turn to level him with my own deadly look, but he has a huge ass grin on his face.

I chuckle. "Yeah, I thought so too."

XXXXX

School went by quickly this week. I had gotten an eighty on my first test in Lit. I thought that was a pretty decent grade since I had only started the class a week ago. I owed Charlotte for her mad note-taking skills. She said that I could buy her a drink if I wanted to go out with her and Peter over the weekend. I told them I had plans, but that I definitely wanted a rain check.

I hesitate before I walk into my final class of the week. Philosophy…and Sarah. Ugh. We were friendly last week and I was guilty of participating in a little flirting, but I hope that I didn't give her too much of an impression that I was interested in more than being friends.

_Well, let's find out._

I won't ignore her; I'm just not like that. So, I sit in the same seat that I occupied last week. She is already waiting in the seat next to me, big smile plastered across her face, as she watches me unload my materials.

"Hey Sarah. How are ya?" I give her a big smile of my own. I just can't seem to help it. Her smiles are completely infectious. I really hope she will want to be friends, even after I start dating Bella.

_If _I start dating Bella, that is. I do have confidence…at least more than James and Rosalie does, but I am not going to hold it against them, in fact, I appreciate their frankness. They worry about me, and I can honestly understand their hesitation, because only knowing as much of the situation as they do, I can see where it would seem entirely hopeless.

But they didn't know what I know. I had been there. I know what I see in her eyes and expressions when she looks and talks to me. I know how she touches me, and I swear I can feel similar emotions rolling off of her as I feel.

I guess it will all be confirmed or denied tomorrow. Even with the assurance that I feel I am really trying not to worry about it myself.

"So, Jasper, a group of people and I are going out to a new club tonight. Would you care to join us?" Sarah looks at me expectantly.

"No, I actually have plans tonight." Her smile faltered before it got bigger and brighter.

"Oh, okay." She says with strained indifference, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes.

"Maybe next time. Okay? Unfortunately, I can't get out of tonight." She perks up seeing that I am not overly excited about my plans for the evening.

"Sounds good!" She says happily, and returns to her work as the professor begins the class.

During the lecture I can feel her eyes on me. Possibly trying to catch my attention, since we had goofed off throughout class last week, but I had to do some damage control and separate myself from her slightly, by creating some boundaries.

We parted with friendly goodbyes. She touched my arm before she left, and I didn't pull away. Promising myself, that next week, I will have to find some casual way to bring up that I am seeing someone. The lines would be drawn and then we could dispense with all this awkwardness and either be friends or move on as casual acquaintances.

XXXXX

"Whoa. Where are you going?" James asks as he peruses my attire.

"Where are _you_ going?" I mirror James and look at him likewise. His normal unruly hair is pulled into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck, the stubble from his jaw removed. He has a formfitting dark maroon v-neck sweater on, with a T-shirt peeking out over the collar and light gray slacks.

"Jessica wants me to go to some family thing." He mumbles.

"No shit?" _Wow._ This appears to be more serious than I first thought.

He lets out a small nervous laugh, as he roughly massages his neck and shoulder. We are both treading into unknown territory and we are both terrified. I am incredibly happy for him, that he is trying to improve his life to some extent. I have an almost irrepressible urge to wrap him up in a big 'ol bear hug to show him how ecstatic I feel today, for him and myself, but I don't give into the temptation and turn to quickly walk to the kitchen while I still have my balls, to grab us a couple of beverages from the fridge. We slowly sip from them as we sit in our finery, waiting to fulfill our duties for the evening.

"So, umm…what time are you planning on calling that girl tomorrow?" He asks, acting like he really doesn't care, but I can see the question bothers him in some way.

"I'm not sure. What do you think is appropriate?"

He shrugs. "I don't know man. Asking girls on dates isn't exactly my forte." I harrumph at that.

_No fucking kidding._

He looks deep in thought for a moment. "Maybe you should call her when you get home tonight. You know? Maybe doing it the same day she is planning on meeting you isn't the best idea. Maybe give her a day in case she wants to wear something different…she might want to go out and buy something new. Fuck man, I have no fucking idea." He looks completely exasperated.

I try to keep a straight face because I know he is just trying to help me, but that shit is just too fucking funny. I can't contain my grin or the laughter that follows.

He jumps off the recliner, and messes up my hair. "I'm just trying to help you, you little shit." It had taken me forty goddamn minutes to get my hair to behave, and I just know that he had just ruined it. I attack him and give him a noogie, messing up his own coiffure. I immediately stop when it feels like he squeezes my ass. "What the fuck?" I yell out.

"What?" James looks innocent, his hair now in wild disarray.

"Did you just grab my ass?" I ask in astonishment.

"You wish." He looks shocked that I would even suggest something of that nature, but then quickly turns his back to me.

When he turns back around I see a devilish grin on his face before I look down to see what he is looking at.

He has my phone, which had been in my back pocket. How embarrassing. I just accused him of feeling me up. I look up at him sheepishly.

It takes a second for me to comprehend what he wanted with it. _Oh shit!_

"Why don't we just call her right now?" He says, holding the phone out so I can clearly hear the phone ring once. Bella's name and number are stored with all of my other previous clients that I hadn't bothered to erase yet.

"C'mon Jazz, get it over with…it will give you more to celebrate tonight." He holds the phone out to me, but his eyes turn serious. I hear the second ring. "I just want to know before I leave that you got your girl." He says quietly. The third ring.

The fourth ring.

I grab the phone from his outstretched hand. I tentatively move the phone to my ear, just in time to hear the fifth ring. What can it hurt right? I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. Sixth. _Fuck._ She should have answered by now…right?

There is a pause in the ringing, and then I hear an anxious voice. "Hello?" The voice sounds familiar, but I know it isn't Bella.

"Is it you? I recognize the number. Say something, please. Do you miss me?" Fuuuuuccckkk! _Leah._

I must have mouthed the word because James turns pale, his wicked smile vanishing, being replaced with a scowl. I am not the only one that can get too hard on himself.

My natural instinct is to drop the phone like a fucking hot potato. Once I realize what I have done, I grab it off the sofa for which it fell on and bring it to my ear.

"…regret it. Please tell me you do." _No. No. No_. I try to speak but nothing appropriate comes to mind.

James grabs the phone, and makes a slightly higher voice than his own, since Leah has talked to him on several occasions, as well. "I'm sorry, I pressed the wrong button. I just bought this phone off of someone and he must have left some numbers stored on it. Again, I am sorry for the confusion."

Just as he was about to hang it up we could both hear her screaming over the phone line. "WAIT! Who did you buy if from? What was his name?"

James presses the end button. The silence is deafening, both of us frozen, unmoving as we both stare at the phone. Finally I utter, "I can't believe that just happened."

I look at James who looks completely mortified. His eyes wide and mouth open. I am sure that we look exactly the same, as we try to gather ourselves from that very uncomfortable encounter.

"What the hell?" James and I both look toward the door to see Rosalie with hands on hips. The total bitch stance.

I glance at James whose hair is loose and a mess. I look down at myself to find a button missing on my baby blue dress shirt, and that one side of it had worked its way out from underneath my belt. I didn't even want to know what my hair looked like.

I hold up my hand, stopping her rant. "Two seconds, _Rose_." I say simply.

"Reservations, _Jazz_." She matches.

"Just two seconds." I repeat.

"Well, get the fuck going." She demands. Not wanting to start the evening off on a bad note I sprint to the bedroom.

Ten minutes later, I manage to get my hair tamed and change into a gray button up. James and Rosalie are standing closely together in the foyer, when I appear they separate minutely. She eyes me appreciatively before she turns to James. "Have fun tonight." She grumbles. "Don't be home too late." She adds, which sounds suspiciously like a warning.

I feel like I am being left out of something.

"What the fuck is going on between you two?"

James snorts. "Abbbsssollluuuteellly nothing." He puts his hands on my shoulders steering me out the door. "Now get out of here before I really do grab your ass." He says sarcastically, as he throws my moronic accusation back in my face.

Dinner is successful. We catch up more, talking about our lives, as adults. Each time we talk we learn more about how each other has fared during our separation. I am learning Rosalie isn't all bad. Yeah, she is still a demanding, egotistical bitch, but she has her good qualities. She cares about the environment, animals, and kids, and she takes her education and hobbies seriously. I can tell that she was lonely, but hides it well under a mask of haughtiness.

I try to think of someone that I can possibly set her up with, but when it comes down to it, there is no one. The straight up fact is that I want to keep the few friends that I have and setting Rosie up with anyone of them would be a quick end to any alliance that I had previously built. It is definitely going to take someone special to handle Rosalie.

So far, we had only argued when she brought up me seeing that Alistair fellow…the family counselor. She quickly dropped the subject when she could see she was getting nowhere. I didn't let that fool me though…I hadn't met Rosalie yesterday; I knew her well enough to know that she was just gaining momentum for her next attack, which came after the meal had been cleared.

We are sipping on a very dry, very delicious Merlot when they removed the empty plates from our table. "So, Jasper…" She hesitates as she tries to find the right words. _This isn't a very promising begin to a conversation._ "This Bella…when are you planning on asking her out on this date?"

Thinking back on my conversation with James earlier, I thought what he said had some actual merit.

"Tonight, or tomorrow morning…first thing." I respond. She shakes her head, processing this new information.

"And you are asking her out for tomorrow night right?"

"Yep."

"Well, if that is the case, than I think you should do it as soon as you get home. Give her time to prepare. She probably works…right?"

"Yeah, she does." I say hesitantly, worried about her next question.

"Where?"

Frustration…depressingly keen, takes hold, clogging my throat.

"I don't know." I murmur, as I stare at the red liquid swirling in the gold laced goblet.

She leans over the table and lays her hand over my forearm. "How much do you really know about her Jazz?"

"Stop." I sigh. "I don't know what she does for a living, or where she lives, or what her last name is, but I know all I need to know…for now." I gaze in my once long-lost sisters eyes and beg for her acceptance, for some reason seeking approval. "Look, I understand how you feel, but just trust me. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." She mutters.

I grab Rosalie's leftovers that she said I could have for tomorrow, and we walk slowly out to the car. I think it had dropped about twenty degrees while we were in the restaurant. Rosie doesn't have a jacket so I wrap my arm around her shoulder. It's crowded as we make our way down the street. The Machine Shop must have just finished their evening show. People gather around happily, probably enjoying the cool breeze. The Shop could get pretty hot when it was filled to capacity, which it appears to have been.

"You know, Jazz, counseling would really help you with your new relationship. How fair is it to Bella that you will be bringing all this baggage with you into her life? Don't you owe it to her to do whatever you possibly can to be whole for her?"

Arghhh. I walk her to her side of the car, and I open the door. She turns to look at me waiting for me to respond, so just to get her off my back I say, "We'll see…maybe."

Her face lights up. "Really?"

She's acting like I signed the contract…sealed the deal…bought the farm. "I said _we'll see_."

I am caught off guard by her swiveling and wrapping her arms around me. She moves so fast and I am unprepared. I fall into her and we bump and smash our noses together.

"Goddamn Rosie, you almost broke my fucking nose." She smiles up at me lovingly, and I return it.

She won't hear the words today, but maybe sometime in the near future I will be ready to tell her what she wants to hear.

"You are such a pansy ass." She retorts as she gets in the car, breaking the tension of the moment we were having.

I deposit her into her seat, hand her my leftovers, shut the door, and walk around the front of the car.

Maybe those words will come easier once…

I don't finish the thought because I pick my head up and there stands Bella…with a guy. All of a sudden, it feels like I am walking in slow motion, watching her watch me. Maybe I am walking slower, I don't even know. My brain is only focusing on one thing right now.

The guy is holding her hand, just getting ready to seat her in the passenger side of his truck. He is looking down at her, but she continues to stare at me. What kind of reaction is she looking for? Does she think I will out her in front of her boyfriend…her lover…or whatever the fuck he is. FUCK!

Small shreds of hope still linger. Maybe he is just a friend, or a brother, cousin…fucking…anything.

At last, she breaks the eye contact with me and leans in to kiss this guy right in front of me. My heart was broken in that instant. Their kiss only intensified, as did the pain in my chest. Tearing my eyes off of them I hurriedly jump into my vehicle.

I sit staring out the front windshield. She is just like every other woman I have ever taken to my bed. What the fuck had I been thinking? I had thought that _I_ didn't deserve _her_. How wrong I had fucking been. She is merely a liar, and a cheater. She is right up my fucking alley.

I can't control my breathing and Rosalie becomes alarmed. "Jazz! What is wrong with you?" She unbuckles her belt, when she doesn't get a responds. She leans across the seat to examine me. Her hand flits over my forehead and pulse points. "Fucking talk to me!" Her nervous screech brings me out of my trance.

I can't stop myself from uttering the words. "It's her."

"Bella? Where?" She practically crawls on top of me to peer out my window in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl that had caught her brother's heart. I laugh bitterly.

"The one with her tongue down the guy's throat." I point in the general direction. Now she does crawl over me, reaching for the door handle. I grab her, knowing full well she has every intention of making a scene.

"Let me go. Let me at that fucking hoebag. I will obliterate her puny little ass." She says angrily, her face turning red in fury.

I push her across the car to the passenger seat, and take off before I can give her time to release her own door.

We don't talk again until we get a block from the house. "Go ahead, Rosie. Tell me you told me so."

"I didn't want to be right Jazz." She leans over and clutches onto my hand tightly. "Hey! At least you found out before you asked her out." She says trying to make something positive out of this disaster.

I chuckle sardonically. _Yeah, I could save face there._

We pull up and we both exit the vehicle. Instead of Rosalie going for her own car she trudges with me toward the front door. I turn as I put the key in the door. "I am sure you understand that I am not up for company."

"Yeah, whatever." She says blandly as she bullies her way past me into the house.

I go directly to my bedroom and rip the clothes from my body, intending on taking a scalding shower. I hear the television turn on so I know that Rosalie is making herself at home.

After the shower, I put on some pajama pants and t-shirt and wander into the living room to find Rosalie curled up with Bruiser on the couch watching a very old episode of _Three's Company_. Ha! Were there any episodes that were new? I snicker.

Shit, now I know I have fucking lost it. My heart shattered into a million pieces an hour ago and here I am chuckling for no goddamn reason at all.

In the shower, I decided that I am done. I am done with Bella, and I had even managed to convince myself that this is a good thing. This is what I had wanted originally anyway. I am unhindered. I have nothing holding me back from finding the future I desired. There will be no regrets. I found out today what I would have found out tomorrow. It's all good.

No damage done.

I clean the kitchen, while doing laundry, and cleaning litter boxes, while humming _Hemorrhage_ by _Fuel_. I am in the middle of drying the dishes that I had just washed when I hear James walk through the door. I hear a lot of whispering, I leave them undisturbed, letting Rosalie give James the rundown of the evening's events. I focus on a stain on the stove top.

I hear the door shut indicating that Rosalie left. I continue putting dishes away, restacking the shelves in a way that makes better sense. Several minutes later James makes his appearance, he has changed and is now in more comfortable clothes.

I don't look at him right away, not knowing what to expect. All I know is that I don't want to see anything close to "smug James". I know that will disturb this very delicate phase of whatever the hell I am currently feeling right now…this blessed numbness, and I know deep within me that I need it to survive.

He is silent as he moves around me to snatch a couple of beers out of the fridge. He sits down in one of the kitchen chairs, saying nothing. I finally find the courage to look up into his face.

He isn't looking at me. He is busy peeling the label from his bottle, his face perfectly unreadable. He did say he would be here for me when the shit hit the fan. I plop down in the seat next to him, opening the beer he left there for me.

He glances at me, but continues to remain speechless. Just goes back to peeling his label. I fold my hands on the table and rest my forehead on them. I feel like we sit that way forever. Finally, I pull my head up and really look at James. He has one of foot propped up on the seat next to him, and he is staring out the darkened, kitchen window. Content just to sit here. I get up and grab two more beers. I sit back down, handing James his.

"So, how was Jessica's family gathering?" He finally looks at me fully and it is impossible to miss the compassion blazing in them, but they quickly turn mischievous.

"I see how it is." He leans back in his chair, smiling. "You want to focus on my shitty life instead of yours."

I smirk back, and for the first time since I saw Bella this evening, it is a genuine smile. "Misery loves company, my friend."

We clink our bottles together, and James relieves me temporarily from the unconscious battle raging inside of me by recalling the horrors of meeting Jessica's extended and immediate relatives.

After more than just a few beers, I had passed out in my bed.

XXXXX

I wake up with an extreme amount of pressure in my head. I stumble out of my bedroom only to run into James in the hallway, holding his head in the same fashion. "Ugh…just took these." He says throwing the bottle at me before gingerly making his way back into his bedroom.

I lay on the couch watching another documentary on the Civil War, trying not to contemplate my future…or my past or present, for that matter. I am trying not to think at all.

I am not going to let her break me. I am going to continue ahead with my plan and eventually forget that Bella ever existed.

_I can do that. I will do that._

My phone rings, I can hear it from the kitchen. I don't feel like getting up so I let it go to voicemail. A half hour later it rings again.

"Answer your fucking phone!" James yells from his room. Well, Jesus fucking Christ. I get up, my head is still pounding.

I grab the offending piece of technology and look at the number displayed on the tiny screen. _Bella_. And with no feeling at all I turn the power off and throw it in the garbage.

I cheer up considerably after I take that first step and absolving myself of this ridiculous obsession that I had with someone I had undeservingly put on a pedestal. I pull out schoolbooks hoping to get some of my homework done. My Lit book falls out first, so I pick it up and take out my notes. The notes Charlotte had made for me.

I have an epiphany, so I grab the house phone and call the number that was scribbled on the inside of the notebook. "Hey Peter, its Jasper…are you guys still going out tonight?"

XXXXX

I pull on the ends of my jacket as I walk into the crowded bar. I look around but I can't seem to find either Peter or Charlotte. As I peruse the smoke filled room I can feel women glancing at me from all angles. I don't ignore them as I usually do. I take my time eying each one of them purposefully, just needing to see someone that wants me.

Peter finds me first, and he approaches me warily. "Jas…hey, I hate to drop this on you because I know you said you weren't looking for any romance and all, but when Char found out you were coming she invited her cousin. Man, I hope you don't fucking mind."

"No, not at all actually. I think I am ready to start looking for someone else." I say as I ogle a cute little blond in the corner, who just winked at me.

We make our way to a table toward the back corner of the bar. Peter starts to introduce me to Charlotte's cousin, but he stops and they all look mildly shocked when I just slide in next to her.

Well, hey there sugar." She says happily.

"Hey Sarah." I add seductively, "What a very, very pleasant surprise."

* * *

**AN: Kind of a lot going on in this chapter. How holy awkward was that convo with Leah? Damn. If only James would have dialed the right number… **

**Well, guys, I hope you stick around and read the coming chapters, as we are just getting to the meat of Jasper's story. I promise to keep it uber light with Sarah. So please come back!**


	17. Natural Disasters

**AN: Okay, so this chapter is a little shorter than Jasper's other chapters, but I really just wanted to get past this point. I am putting his story into overdrive starting next chapter.**

**Part of this chapter is Chapter 20 of Finding Relief.**

**QueenBeta Cullen818 is the best beta ever.**

**I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

* * *

**"**_**It only takes five small things to become a disaster."**__** - **__**Unknown**_

**Chapter 17 –Natural Disasters **

"He has a girl in there. Jazz came in last night, three sheets to the wind, grumbling something about meeting her at school before he led her into his bedroom. They haven't come out yet." James informs. "All I know is that they didn't get any sleep, because they kept me up all night. I never realized these walls were so fucking paper thin. God, I can't even imagine what he's heard out of me."

"So they're fucking like rabbits in there? I guess he could use the distraction." Rosalie ponders.

"This girl doesn't look like the kinda girl to offer herself up as a "distraction"." James let's out a sigh, and then slams a fist down on the table. "He's acting like nothing is wrong, like what happened didn't affect him at all, but I found his phone in the trash yesterday. He told me he lost it."

"Who the fuck was this Bella – that she could do this to him?" Rosalie snarls venomously.

"I don't know." James says, defeated.

"Have you seen her or met her, it was too dark for me to see…"

"No, I've just seen her waiting for Jazz in her car. She has a sweet ride; you would appreciate it…that is about all I know of her."

"Well, from what I could see, she didn't look like anything special to me. Of course, she was being swallowed by this other guy." Rosalie concedes.

That is about all I can fucking take, so I stop eavesdropping and saunter into the kitchen to find James and Rosalie huddled at the kitchen table.

"Hey guys."

"So, he emerges." James states sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, I only came out for some sustenance." I wink at him and Rosalie.

"Where is your friend?" She asks.

"She's right where I want her." I say absently, as I peruse the refrigerator, so I can gain some strength to continue the marathon, Sarah and I entered into…or biathlon, triathlon, depending on how you viewed it.

"Ignoring your issues doesn't make them go away." Rosalie barks out.

I disregard her comment as I ask, "Don't we have anything to eat around here?"

"Nope, you were supposed to do the grocery shopping this week. I did go out and by some apples though. There in the drawer…"

"You know I hate apples. God, I don't know how you can stand to eat those things." I cringe at the thought.

"An apple a day, keeps the doctor away." He says in a sing-song voice, as he gets up to grab, from what I can smell, the fresh pot of coffee for him and Rose.

I want to ask them why they insist on sitting around like old biddies, gossiping about me, but I find it just isn't worth my time or effort. What is worth the effort is getting something really mouthwatering to chow down on. I mentally go through the menus of some of the local restaurants. I choose a place that isn't right around the corner, but sounds scrumptious.

"I think I am going to go back and get some takeout from that restaurant we went to the other day. Remember I wanted to get the ribs, but ended up getting a steak instead." I ask Rosalie the rhetorical question, but she responds anyway.

"Yeah, I do. Do you remember what else happened that night?" She says tauntingly, looking dumbfounded, for some reason.

"Lots of things happened that night Rosie. Maybe I will get the ribs this time." I weigh the options of driving the longer distance, or getting something more convenient. In the end it was no contest. The ribs sound too fantastic to pass up. I start to walk out the door and then a thought comes to me. "Oh, did you guys want me to pick anything up for you?"

Rosalie just stares at me in disbelief. James gazes out the window, looking really tired, and says absolutely nothing. I get to the car before I realize that I hadn't even waited for them to let me know what they wanted, if anything. I shrug.

_Their loss. You snooze, you lose._

I am halfway to the restaurant when it finally occurs to me that I had left without even asking Sarah what she wanted to eat. My hand automatically reaches on the seat next to me, because that is where I usually keep my phone…but I don't have a phone anymore.

A pain, I can't ignore, flares in my chest.

I let it run its course. I am debilitated for a moment, and then I can think again.

_I'll just get her the chicken. _

^*^

I don't understand how simply waiting for some food can be so infuriating. I feel like a caged animal. What has happened to me? I used to be so relaxed…so content, until I met _her_.

_Nope._ Not thinking about her.

I will not let her destroy the changes that I have recently made in my life, or the goals I set to make my life better. I will not take steps backward. Just because I can't have her doesn't mean I won't eventually find the perfect girl.

That perfect girl could be the one in my bed right now, waiting for me to bring her back some goddamn food. Where the fuck is the food?

The problem is that I don't want to be alone right now. I start thinking…I start remembering…

Fuck. _No big deal. No big deal. No big deal._

I repeat it over and over again until I calm down. It isn't the words that soothe me. To be honest, I don't believe a single word of it. I just repeat it over and over again until the thoughts I am having disappear and the numbness takes hold.

She is just a girl, it should really be no big deal…and I am half convinced, but every time I start to feel the loss of her, I feel the hurt. I have been telling myself for weeks that I was going to pay the consequences, that there was no way that she could feel the same way about me, and I was right. What I thought I felt from her last Friday had been completely one-sided. The way she had looked at me, touched me, all of it…pure imagination. I had fallen way too hard, and now I am paying for it tenfold.

It is easy to forget for a while, but when I let my guard down, if just for a few minutes, she is there, invading my fabricated serenity.

I am not a moron; I know what I am doing. I am deferring. It is a little trick I learned after Claire's death. It came in handy when kids would call me a murderer at school, or when Rosalie made her snide comments, or when my mom couldn't even look at me some days, or my dad hid himself in his office for days at a time or worked long hours to avoid being at home.

I closed up and lived inside of myself. I made a happy place and never let anyone in during that time.

Not that I could compare Bella to Claire. Bella is still alive; she still has a life to live…even though it won't be with me. Part of the issue is that I am not even really sure why I am taking this so hard. Is this what is going to happen every time I let someone else in?

I know, ultimately I will have to deal with this thing I had with Bella when the time is right. When some of the hurt has worn off.

_When is the time ever going to be right?_ I just know it will have to be sooner than later.

I still had everything with Claire buried…how much more can I possibly hold in.

I am truly terrified that this is just another log in a slow burning fire, bringing it one step closer to the imminent inferno that will erupt like an active volcano one day. Lava will spew in every direction and I fear that the destruction will be massive and permanent; damaging everything I have gained within its reach.

"Excuse me ma'am, how much longer?" I fairly growl out the question. The words are pleasant, but my tone gives away my irritation.

"Let me go back and check." She huffs.

I pace, needing one thing…to get back to my bed, so I can get inside of Sarah again. Only then, I can focus on sensations, and feelings. I only had to think about nipping and kissing, thrusting and withdrawing…

Breathing and surviving.

I have to believe that what transpired between Bella and I is nothing more than a minor setback. Sarah is going to help me…she is already helping me. I am forgetting.

Goddammit. I am never coming back to this place again. My hands thread through my hair for the hundredth time today.

Finally, the hostess brings out my food and I give her enough money for the food and a tip, practically throwing it at her as I rush out the door. It takes me all of about two seconds before I see the object of my desire, disappointment and pain.

The cause of my predicament. I know deep down that I am actually the cause, but I am in no mood to be rational. It is much easier to blame someone else, and get mad at them, than it is to see that the only problem to be found lies solely inside yourself.

The question on whether she is actually here to see me or not is answered quickly enough when she heads directly for me.

Does she need a quickie before she goes home to her boyfriend? The guy that knows her last name, what she does for a living…

_Shit, I just need to get this over with._

She may or may not know that our business relationship is now over. She stands at a distance, and I pick my head up to look at her. She looks tired. _Long night, making love no doubt._

That thought makes my annoyance come out in full force. "I'm not working." I say scathingly.

She appears to be momentarily taken aback. "I…I didn't come here for…that." She stammers.

She continues to stare and doesn't say anything, leading to more frustration. What the fuck does she expect _me_ to say?

It is clear to me now that she has never felt anything, yet here she stands obviously very uncomfortable. Is it because I caught her? It's not like she's the first cheating wife, girlfriend, lover or whatever she is, that I have ever saw. I dealt with these kinds of women on a daily fucking basis, but not anymore…

My patience runs thin. "Well, what is it that you came here for?"

"I…I just wanted to…to tell you how much…I appreciate everything…" She came here to officially break it off with me? There is a hell, and I am in it. She came here to twist the fucking rusty knife in my chest. "Jazz…"

Nope. No _fucking_ way!

"Don't." I demand. "This is unnecessary, Bella." I can't even look at her at this point. _Please just go the fuck away. _I had always considered myself pretty street smart. How could I have been such a goddamn fool?

I am feeling a little insane as I search desperately for a viable exit strategy that will get this over with as quickly as possible. So I go for a congenial approach, but cutting right to the chase.

"I saw you with your boyfriend yesterday and I'm happy for you...I am happy that you moved on." Okay, maybe acting happy for her wasn't the best solution as I hear my voice crack from my blasphemous lie.

I see the contrition slash across her face, and it dawns on me just how big of a dumbass I have actually been. "That's why you took off your ring…for him." I look at her for confirmation, and when I see the guilt in her chocolate eyes it has been validated.

"Did you sleep with him?" Oh Jesus, where did that come from?

_I don't want to know. Don't tell me._

I unconsciously move toward my vehicle before she speaks the words I so do not want to hear, but she stops me with her own question instead of answering mine. "Wait. Was she…I mean, is she…your…girlfriend?"

_What the fuck is she talking about? Who??_

I had been with Rosalie, but why does she think that she would be my girlfriend? Yuuuck. If I remember I did have my arm around her, but I am confused. Other than keeping Rose from freezing to death, what basis does she have for her question?

"Was she? What? Is that too fucking personal?" She yells. Her words stun me from my thoughts.

_What the fuck is her problem? _I didn't have my tongue down someone else's throat. That was _all_ her.

I didn't realize that I had walked past her. I swivel around, wanting a conclusion to this very unwanted and distasteful conversation. "Bella, you were never my girlfriend. You never will be. I didn't cheat on you."

_You _cheated on_ me._

I am very aware that she didn't actually cheat on me per se, but my heart felt betrayed, and there is no reasoning with it. My heart had pulled for her all along, avoiding the warnings my brain was telling it, and now bitterness filled my heart. I want nothing more to do with this. I am no longer interested in having a business or personal relationship with her.

"Say something!" Why does she look so distraught? She came here to end things. Is she looking for me to beg?

_Not going to happen. _I walk swiftly to my car.

"Say something, goddamn you. Did it mean nothing? At all? At any point did you feel anything?" She screams from the other side of the road.

She wants me to admit to feelings that she didn't share? What the fuck am I missing here?

_This is not happening. _

"So, is that how it's going to be then? You're going to pretend like you didn't give a fuck? Fine have it your way."

That's it. If she wants a goodbye I will give her one.

I advance on her as she is walking toward her car. This girl has the ability to make me the happiest or most miserable person alive, and I realize now, that I am not willing to relinquish the power to her…not anymore. In my current state of mind, seeing what she has already been able to accomplish, it just isn't worth the risk anymore.

So to give her the amicable parting and to ease her conscious I walk on numb legs to get to her and whisk her into my arms for my final touch. I squeeze her tightly, loving and hating the feeling of her body against mine and the smell of her fragrance in my nostrils.

She starts crying.

_I am sorry too._

"Be good." I manage to breathe out, and with a chaste kiss to the forehead, I release her, and without once looking backward I walk out of Bella's life.

I could hear her voice as I stride away, but I have no idea what she is saying. I am assuming a "goodbye" in some form or another.

I notice that when I get into my vehicle, and hurl the contents of the carryout bag on the seat next to me, that I am shaking uncontrollably, and my heart is beating out of my chest. I try unsuccessfully to claim some of the air around me, but my throat closes. I lean my head against the steering wheel, taking short ragged breaths. Feeling a strong urge to look in my rearview mirror, I quickly start the car and take off before I give in to the temptation.

^*^

"She left."

"What do you mean she left?"

_No. No. No._

"She said something about having to drop her brother off at the airport or something." Rose says nonchalantly as she sips on her coffee. She is sitting at the kitchen table, and James is nowhere to be found. Does she live here now? "Nice girl, by the way. Even though you left her without saying goodbye, she did say she would be back afterward." She looks mildly disgusted at that.

_Fuck!_ "I brought her lunch." I say feebly.

"What did you get her? Can I have it?" James comes up behind me, and snags the take out bag that I have in my hand.

"Whatever." I say, shrugging. I glance back at Rose, who is looking at me with disdain. "I'll make it up to Sarah later." I promise.

She slams her hand on the table and gets up to stand in front of me. "Stop this pretending. Don't act like you don't care that you got hurt by Bella."

An unknown entity takes over my body, and I grasp Rosalie's biceps in a tight hold, shaking her. "Don't you EVER mention her name in my presence AGAIN."

Before I know what's what, James has me pinned against the kitchen wall. "Settle down, Jazz. What the fuck is wrong with you? For Christsakes…" He admonishes in a booming voice.

I am appalled at my behavior. I have never, ever, laid a hand on my sister, even when I thought she deserved it, and the thought makes me want to vomit.

I look at him and then at Rose's back, because she is turned away from me. "I would…_never_…_ever_ hurt her." I whisper frantically, begging for them both to believe me.

James loosens his grip on me, and sighs heavily. "I know. I know." He glances at Rose's back. "She knows too." He bends minutely to look directly into my eyes. "What can we do to help you? You're scaring us Jazz. You can't keep holding all this shit in, and acting like everything is just hunky-dory. I have to tell you that your coping mechanism just sucks."

"I…I…just need a couple of days. That's all. I promise. I'll be completely back to normal." I hear Rose snort, and James' grip tightens infinitesimally.

He stares hard, before it seems like he decides to believe me. "Okay." He releases me slowly, giving my shoulder a light squeeze.

_Reassurance._

He is telling me that he is here for me.

I want to cry. _Why can't I fucking cry?_

"I am just going to take a quick shower." I mumble out, and with my head hanging, I listlessly walk to my bedroom.

^*^

By the time I return to the kitchen James and Rosalie are both picking at the Chicken Marsala I got for Sarah. "Vultures. You guys better have not touched my ribs." I joke, with a hesitant smile on my face, hoping that they will forgive me for my atrocious behavior earlier.

They both glimpse at each other briefly before looking at me. "Heck yeah. We ate that first, but don't worry, we did you a favor. That shit was way too salty." James says, as Rosalie nods her head in agreement, with a sour look on her face for effect.

After a moment, they both laugh at whatever expression I have on my face. Rose opens the Styrofoam container next to her, and I see that my meal has gone untouched.

I grab a fork and Pepsi. I sit down next to Rosalie, and dig into my lunch.

"So…" Rosalie begins. I look up at her with my mouth full. "Now, tell me about this girl…Sarah." She says Sarah's name impishly.

I experience a brief moment of déjà vu from when Rose asked me, at another time, to describe a certain other girl.

I quell the ache, but the volcano grumbles.

* * *

**AN: Uh oh, that sounds ominous. Anyway, I am thinking about combining the next 2 chapters into 1, and like the 2 chapters I combined in Finding Relief, you are going to want to read them back to back. The second of the two chapters will fill in a piece of the puzzle. So if you want me to combine them…just ask and you shall receive.**

**By the way, don't forget to give me props on my enormous lack of Sarah content. I totally curbed my lemony nature, just because you asked. :) Jasper is not perfect guys. I know you would have liked fo rhim to handle this differently, but he is a little messed up right now. :(**


	18. No Matter What

**AN: I didn't respond to reviews this last chapter because I always give you guys a head up on what is coming up in the next chapter, but I really didn't know what to say about this one, so I just thought I would wait until afterward, so I will get to them.**

**I did combine two chapters, I put a marker where the chapter was supposed to end. I shortened them so that the chapter wouldn't be too long.**

**Thanks to my wonderful QueenBeta Cullen818 for not dropping my stories due to all of the projects she has going on. She is one special lady, and I appreciate everything she does for me. Sorry, Steph, I am a little emo after this chapter, but I love you woman!**

**I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

* * *

"_**No one is to blame. It is neither their fault nor ours. It is the misfortune of being born when a whole world is dying." – Alexander Herzen**__**  
**_

**Chapter 18 – No Matter What**

Two weeks has passed since the confrontation with Bella outside the restaurant, and it is getting a little easier to think of her. I have begun to let little pieces of her in, trying to deal with them bit by tiny bit. I try to look at the positive. Before Bella I had forgotten how to love, and I think I owe that to her.

After the incident with Rosalie and James, in the kitchen, I realized that it is impossible for me to retain all of this baggage, and still act like a human being.

I am just not willing to risk losing anyone else in my life.

I suppose that includes Sarah, as well. Sarah hasn't questioned any of my motivations since we have been together, and I don't know if that is a good or a bad thing. Our sex life is thriving, but we hardly communicate. I haven't even taken her on a date. I think she knows that I am dealing with some issues, but it doesn't excuse my behavior. I honestly don't think we really have a lot in common, but I believe that our relationship might improve if we just take it outside the bedroom, maybe just hang out with friends once in a while, and get to know each other a little better.

I recognize that in order to keep her around I am going to eventually have to put some effort into this.

The opportunity presents itself when Peter, Charlotte, Sarah and I meet in the cafeteria at school for lunch.

"My friend bought a bar on the Eastside. It re-opens this weekend, and he is going to have a live band. He said we could come and drink for free." Peter says. Charlotte is jumping up and down in her seat in exaggerated anticipation. _She is so over the top_.

"I'm up for that. What do you think?" I say with pretend enthusiasm, surprising everyone at the table, and I'm even pretty sure I scored a few extra points with Sarah by giving her the final say in the decision making.

She genuinely looks shocked, and I feel really bad about that. I put my arm around her like a boyfriend ought to do, and she immediately leans into my body. Her smile is radiant, as she responds to Peter happily. "Sure, sounds like fun."

"Hey, James and Jessica could probably come to." I muse. I can't miss the look they all pass to each other before they all look for something to stare at besides me. Finally, Peter meets my gaze, when he realizes that no one else is going to respond. "Sure…sure. Whatever."

Okay, this is strange because the only one here, besides moi, that really knows anything at all about James or Jessica is Sarah, and it appears that she has had something to say about them behind our backs. I can't even begin to wonder what she could have possibly said since when Sarah is over, we are too busy fucking for her to learn anything about my roommate or his gal. We had wandered out occasionally, and in that time, she has met both of them, as well as Rosalie, but I don't know what any of them could have possibly said in that short of time to offend Sarah.

Not a big deal. James and Jessica have their own thing going on. James has been cleaning up somewhat, and I am so happy for him. He is really trying to be better. He is still a "working man", but he has cut his hours down to half. I am not sure about Jessica, but she is always over when he isn't working, so she cut hers, at least, by that much.

It still bothers me that Sarah has said something derogatory about James or Jessica. I understand that without really knowing him it is easy to misinterpret what he says and does sometimes, but I wished she could have expressed those feelings to me instead of Peter and Charlotte.

I decide to let it go…for now.

^*^

I sit at the kitchen table, trying to get as much of my homework done as possible. Peter, Charlotte, Sarah and I are all heading out to that bar tonight, so I probably won't be up for doing any homework tomorrow. Sarah is driving, and I am not really much of a drinker, but I am planning on getting hammered tonight, which means I will be in bed, sleeping it off, for most of the day tomorrow.

"Do you want any of this?" James questions, opening a pizza box. The smell is mouthwatering, but we are going out to eat before we head over to the bar.

"No, man. I am heading out tonight." I contemplate having one small piece, but choose against it. My appetite pouts at my decision.

James looks up from his plate, surprised. "Wow. You're actually going out? Cool. Where you going?"

"Sar and I are going to meet Peter and Charlotte for dinner and then to a bar afterward."

"What bar?"

I glance at the clock to see how much time I have left before I must get ready. Damn. I have a half an hour before Sarah get's here. "Shit. I gotta get ready." I say and take off toward the shower, hoping that he doesn't figure out that I purposefully avoided his question.

^*^

I manage to look decent in twenty minutes, and find James in the garage going through the toolbox. "What are you doing?"

James is wearing an old t-shirt and sweat pants. He usually is working on a Saturday night, or Jessica is here, so I am surprised to see him looking so casual.

"Nothing. Just looking for something." He says, as his nose is buried in the metal cabinet.

"You're not going anywhere tonight?"

He finally looks up at me. "No, not right away, Jessica and I are going to go out later. Which bar are you heading out to? Maybe we can meet you up there."

"Ummm…" I hedge, stalling for time to think of a suitable excuse. "You guys wouldn't really like the band." James stops what he is doing and turns around to look at me suspiciously, indicating that my excuse had been nowhere near suitable.

I hear the sound of Sarah's horn through the garage door, and so did James, as we both turn our heads to look in the direction of where the noise came from. "Look James, it's just not a good idea. I gotta go." I say quickly, tearing through the house.

He follows me to the front door. "What's the deal Jazz? Are you to afraid that Jess or I will out you? Embarrass you? Don't you think we know how to act in front of your "school friends"?"

_Fuck. I didn't need to deal with this right now._

"James, I can't deal with one of your temper tantrums now. I. Have. To. Go." I say sternly.

"Fine. But it really sounds like you are saying you are too good for us Jazz." He taunts.

I turn on him angrily. "Well, you finally figured it out, James. I _am_ better than you."

With that being said, I slam the door.

^*^

I had said it sarcastically, but was he stubborn enough to believe me? I had been angry so maybe it came off sounding like I meant it. He would never believe that…right?

"Jasper? You there?"

"Huh? Oh sorry. What did I miss?" _Again_. Everyone at the table is staring at me with a mix of confusion and humor.

"What is up with you tonight? You have been out of it almost the whole evening." Peter asks. It is true that I haven't been able to think about anything but that last conversation with James. Why would I say something like that? I said it just to shut him up. Sure. He definitely provoked me, but to say that I am better than him is uncalled for.

It is like everything that he thought would happen when I started school is happening. Or at least, so he could argue. He could point out that we don't hang out as much, I talk about different things and have acquired new interests that doesn't involve him.

I had intentionally left him out of tonight's festivities, but I think of James no differently than I ever have, and I would never consider myself better than him. He will always be my best friend. I know no matter what I do in my life, he will always be in it.

"Jazz???" Sarah's irritation is shining through. I am totally fucking up everything I had planned for her and I tonight, and the problem was I really didn't care. We are supposed to be getting to know each other…communicating, but I am just not that in to it. This shit is just confirming that maybe she hasn't been my best idea.

"I…I just need to make a phone call and then I'll be good." I slide out of the booth, and make my way outside the noisy bar.

I punch in the speed dial number that I have for James before I realize that it isn't programmed into my new phone yet. I hang up and try two different numbers before I finally get it right and hear his voicemail answer. _Shit_. "James, this is Jasper. Um…I just want to apologize for earlier. Umm…" James and I rarely have to say much to know what the other one is thinking, but I feel like I have to say it. "I…I just want to say that you are my best friend and that you always will be no matter what."

I stop at the bar on my way back to order another round of drinks for the table. I try hard to join the conversation, but I am just not that involved. They chat incessantly about things that mean nothing to me. They converse about boring stuff, like what car they want to buy next, who's got more money, or they gossip about other classmates or professors, again, talking about people they know hardly anything at all about. They laugh at people that are poor, and frown upon the lower class. I am beginning to see that these "friends" are nothing more than very angry, unsatisfied, mean people.

This evening with Sarah has been an eye-opener. Sarah is not only a catty gossip, she is dull, bitchy and not that smart. She complained most of the night about the food, the music, the smoke, her hair… the list went on and on.

I stare at the stage. The band is mediocre at best, but it still beat the company. I am wasting my time, when I can be at home with people I really enjoyed. I had thought earlier that I didn't want to lose anyone in my life right now, but it's better to lose them than keep them around just to annoy me.

I need to get the hell out of here, but I am not going to leave until I get something off of my chest. I noticed when I was outside, calling James, they had several cabs parked outside, so it will be easy to leave without making Sarah take me home. I am going to end up being a real asshole, but I had a fucking point to make to these snobs.

"So, when I mentioned James coming with us tonight you guys got all weird. What was that about?" The atmosphere becomes tense as Charlotte and Peter look quickly at Sarah before averting their eyes to the band.

"I'll tell you later." She says casually, as her eyes stay on the band.

"No. You can tell me now, since it appears that everyone knows something that I don't." Sarah looks around the table to see that all eyes are on her.

"All I said to them was that James is a little rough around the edges…right?" She stares at them, willing them to comply. They look away guiltily.

"I may have also said that his girlfriend looks like a tart." She says shrugging her shoulders as if what she said is insignificant.

"A tart?"

"Well, she wears a lot of makeup and she dresses kinda like a…a…hooker." I let out a booming laugh, because that's just fucking hilarious. It is the first time I have been genuinely entertained the whole evening, and I am about to pick it up a notch.

When I finally catch my breath I squeeze her shoulder. "You are such a smart girl." She looks perplexed at my observation. "Because she is…we all are."

It takes a few seconds for my words to soak into the tables three inhabitants. Who…who…is…what?"

"We _all_ are hookers…you know…prostitutes." I nod my head, as if they need some form of physical confirmation to believe me. "Well, not me…not anymore, but I just gave it up a couple of weeks ago." I turn to look fully at Sarah. "You were actually the first girl I had sex with that I hadn't charged in almost a year." Her face is frozen in a state of horror. I look around to find matching expressions on the other two face's.

"Are…are you kidding? You're kidding…right?" Peter asks nervously, clutching onto Charlotte as if he has to protect her from me…or my germs.

"Well, no, I'm not." I look back at Sarah who looks like she is about to cry, and I put my hand on her thigh. "But don't worry; I made sure I got tested before we fucked."

She cringes, and pushes my hand off of her thigh as if I had burned her. "D-Don't you…touch me you disgusting…piece of filth. H-How could you d-do that without telling me first? What kind of guy does that?"

I should feel bad, but I don't. She never tried to get any information from me about what I had done previously in life. Why hadn't she cared? What kind of girl is she? I guess I could ask her now if it is important to me, but it just isn't.

I stand and lean over the table. "The same kind of person that has sex all night long with people they hardly know, and then continues to, without asking a single thing about their past. Do you know any girls like that Sarah?" I don't get, or expect a response, so I continue. "You are just one step away from being just like me."

Her face contorts into an ugly grimace. "I will _never_ be like you."

"I think you should just get the hell out of here." Peter says angrily, but wisely stays seated.

I wink, and saunter out the door. Once I got in the cab, I sag in relief. Relief that it is over. I don't need friends like that. Sarah hadn't even given Jessica and James a chance, even though she knew that they were important to me. Peter and Charlotte are just as bad by already having a sour opinion of both of them, based on hearsay. Gossip, no less. No facts, just pure, uneducated opinion.

I suppose I could have been nicer, I could have told Sarah about my past differently…alone perhaps, but I wanted her to realize that she isn't much better than any of us. She didn't sell herself for money, but she had sex with me, several times, not knowing a goddamn thing about me. I shiver at the thought, and mentally pat myself on the back for using a condom, even though she said she was on the pill. Who knows what I could have contracted from her.

The cab parks in the driveway, and I observe all the lights are out, so James is probably elsewhere with Jessica. I meander into the empty house, disappointed that I will have to wait to talk to James later.

He has to know what I said wasn't…

I turn on the light in my bedroom and stare unbelievingly. A brand new, beautiful mahogany desk unit is nestled in the corner. It looks fit for an executive. I walk over to admire it at a closer range, trailing my fingertips over the polished surface. The work area already houses my laptop, and the overhead shelves hold paper and other supplies. I know James couldn't have done all of this today, without some planning, and by putting it in my room, he is telling me that this is specifically for me and not just for the house.

I notice a piece of paper next to my laptop. The note is written with a green Sharpie:

_I got your sappy message. Never believed ya anyway._

_Don't get all emo about the present._

_Your best friend "no matter what"_

_J_

I plop down in the comfy desk chair, and read the note again. It's like a weight off of my shoulders.

He had thrown my last words back at me, and I know he will be teasing me endlessly for being a sissy later.

Of course, he didn't believe my stupid comment from earlier. James knows me like no other. He is well aware that I can get hotheaded when backed into a corner, _and I had_ been backed into a corner, because I didn't want to tell James that my "friends" didn't like him.

I sigh. Pulling myself out of the chair, I hop in the shower, so I can keep myself awake until James gets home. He told me not to get emo about the desk, but I am not promising anything.

^*^

The doorbell rings. I glance at my alarm clock, and its 1:30 in the morning. Please tell me James just forgot or lost his keys, and that he isn't in trouble again. My hopes are dashed when I see the flashing lights through the front window.

_Goddammit._

I pull open the door to see two cops, and two different squad cars in the front of the house, one had his lights on and the other didn't.

_What did he do?_

"Are you Jasper Hale?" One of the officers asks.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Can we come in for a moment?"

There here for me? Damn, which part of my past is coming back to haunt me? Or did this have to do with tonight? Did Peter or Sarah call the cops on me? I have a feeling that, no matter what, this isn't going to be good.

"We've been sent here by William Hunter to come and get you." James' dad? None of this is registering.

"For what?"

They look at each other briefly for a moment. "We're sorry to have to tell you this, but his son, James Hunter was killed this evening."

******EOC******

Running, running, running. I can't run fast enough, and I can't run hard enough. It is catching me, and there isn't anything I can about. The trepidation…the fear courses through every vein in my body, as it looms overhead like a large shadow covering me the closer it gets.

I run faster, but I don't have to look behind me to know that it is just a matter of moments before it overtakes me. My heart beat crashes in my chest and pounds in my ears. _Oh god, oh god, oh god,_ is the only thing going through my mind. Suddenly, I feel a jolt, and I know I've been caught.

Then that is all I can hear and feel. A heartbeat - smooth and stable. My eyes flicker open, and I find myself on the living room couch.

I must have fallen asleep waiting for James. I press my hand over my chest, and feel the beat of my heart. I listen to the steady rhythm of my breath as I exhale and inhale.

What a dream.

The haze is still present, and I can't shake the feeling. I sit up and put my head into my hands, trying to clear the fuzz.

"He's awake." _What the fuck?_ I jump at the sound of the foreign voice. I turn to find the two officer's from my dream.

Except it wasn't a dream. James is dead.

I stumble back, sitting back down, as I feel faint once again.

"Would you like some water?" They had made their way over to me without me realizing it, and one of them is shoving a glass in front of my face.

I can see the glass, but I can't acknowledge it, and even though they are standing right in front of me I can only hear voices. I can't understand what they are saying. I want to ask what happened, but my vocal cords are paralyzed.

Finally, the voices of the men register, and I find limited feeling in my limbs.

"Jasper, is there anyone I can call for you?" I slowly shake my head, and he looks relieved that I am finally responding.

"Wh…"

Breathe… in-out, in-out.

I try again. "What hap-pd?" It doesn't come out right, but they understand.

"Jasper, we want to give you all of the information, but we need you down at the station, to help us identify the person responsible."

_What do they mean by that? It wasn't an accident?_

It wasn't a fucking accident?? My mind screams, but I remain mute, my whole body slack. All my energy goes to my brain, focusing on trying to comprehend…anything at this point.

"Who??" I say in a hoarse voice. Did they think I knew this person since they are asking me to identify him or her?

"Jasper, we will tell you everything when we get to the station. Please, the ride will give you a chance to pull yourself together."

They both grab an arm and pull me up from the sofa. I don't put up a fight, and with assistance I make it to the squad car that didn't have the lights on. They set me into the passenger seat, just as they would a felon, tucking my head and pushing me in simultaneously. He shuts the door, and I can hear their muffled voices as they have a conversation outside.

The car ride is silent. I am just trying to wrap my brain around what is going on here. I cannot believe that James is gone. We pull into the station, and he takes the key out of the ignition slowly. "How are you doing? Do you need some help?"

"No. I can manage." My voice returns, but it is shaky and gruff.

I make my way into a small conference room on numb legs, and sit in one of the chairs. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I just want to know what the fuck happened to James." My gut twists when I say his name.

James' dad enters with the other officer that had been to my house, and someone who looks like a detective, holding a file folder. "What happened?" I whisper to Mr. Hunter, ignoring the others.

"James was shot." He says with little to no emotion.

_Shot??? _

I look between him and the other occupants in the room.

"Who did this? What happened? Someone tell me what the fuck is going on?" I growl, because I am at my fucking limits.

I am going to go fucking crazy.

"One thing before we start I am Detective Banner, I am working on the case. We called your sister Rosalie and she is on her way."

"Okay, go on."

"Alright, this is what we know so far; within the last hour the person we have been interrogating confessed to the murder of James. He is in the middle of providing a written confession now. His name is Embry Call. Do you know him?"

_What??_

"I know _of_ him, I know…Leah, his wife."

"Well, Leah passed away almost three weeks ago. She committed suicide."

I don't need a fucking calendar to figure out it had been pretty close to three weeks ago that James had mistakenly called her from my phone instead of dialing Bella. I rake my hands through my hair.

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening._

I can say it over and over again, but it won't change the fact this _is_ happening. _He's gone._

"James had been having dinner with Jessica Stanley, in downtown Davison when he left the restaurant." The detective states reading off of a document that had been in his file. "They proceeded down Dort Highway and met up with Sebastian Heinrich where they began having a conversation. Do you know either of them two?"

"Yes." I whisper, shaken upon hearing the detailed events of James' last moments. "Umm…Jess is…was…" When do you start using past tense? Is there an unwritten rule as to when it was acceptable to start thinking of someone as the past, and no longer the present? "…James girlfriend, I guess, and Sebastian is a mutual friend."

"According to Ms. Stanley, they saw Mr. Call walking down the street, coming toward them. Neither she nor James wanted to meet up with this fellow so they both turned their backs to avoid notice. Again, according to her account, when Mr. Call got closer to them they heard him asking some people on the street…" His eyes flicker to Mr. Hunter's before they land uncomfortably back to his paperwork. He shuffles some papers around. "I don't know…something."

"What was he asking for? Find it." I said, tapping his paperwork. "I'll wait."

Detective Banner looks up at Mr. Hunter, so I do the same thing. "He was asking for you." James' dad says.

I look at the ground concentrating on this new information.

"What do you mean? He asked for me by name? Leah didn't know it."

"Ms. Stanley had told Officer Garrett that when she and Mr. Call had…umm…communications, she had mentioned you and James, by name, several times."

I didn't want to start making assumptions as to where this is going, but I am beginning to feel dread that this has nothing to do with James, and everything to do with me, and I am the one alive and he is dead.

"Continue." I say simply.

"According to Ms. Stanley when Mr. Call was closer, he could hear him ask other pedestrians on the street if they had seen you. She then said that James instructed her to go into the corner store that they were standing in front of. She insisted on staying, but had he yelled at her to go. Mr. Heinrich confirmed her account of this conversation in his statement." He takes a sip of his coffee and then shuffles more papers. "Mr. Heinrich says in his testimony that James turned his back on him and took one of the posters off of one of the street lamps, held it in his hands for a moment, and then shoved it into his pocket, which had Mr. Heinrich perplexed, but when James turned around he headed straight for Mr. Call. He heard James tell Mr. Call that he was Jasper and what did he want. Mr. Heinrich did not catch the rest of what they were saying, but they had spoken for a minute or so, and then they both got into a black Mercedes, which we have identified as Mr. Call's vehicle, and then drove off." He put down the papers and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

He was killed because that sick fuck thought he was me…because James told him that he was me.

"We can't relay any of Mr. Call's confession until it has been properly put into the system and he is formally charged with the murder. Ms. Stanley had called the police once she came out looking for him and Sebastian relayed the story to her. It took us about an hour to find him in an empty alley a few blocks from where they had taken off from. Our forensic investigators determined that James died instantly and painlessly. He had one gunshot to the head and no other injuries. His keys and wallet were found in his pockets."

_Is it supposed to make me feel better that he wasn't tortured. He fucking died because of me. _

I must have said that out loud, because Mr. Hunter was in my face. "Don't!" He turns his back, and then swivels back around angrily. "Don't!"

Detective Banner holds out his hand to try and calm the room down. He looks back at me. "Our investigators found a piece of paper next to James and compared it to the remnants found on the lamp post that Mr. Heinrich mentioned, and it matched. Will you please confirm that the note contains his handwriting for evidence? If it is James, then he must have written it when he turned his back on Mr. Heinrich, just before he approached Mr. Call."

Something told me not to look at it. Something told me I would be very sorry.

My breath hitched when he pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of his file. My eyes were immediately drawn to the green Sharpie print.

Don't do it. Don't look. But it is the least I can do.

In green ink and in all caps read James final words.

_It's not your fault._

* * *

**AN: Poor Jasper, what more can possibly happen to him? I have to say that this was the hardest decision and chapter that I have ever had to write in my short author life. James reminds me of a few people in my real life that I am very close with. James was misguided and misunderstood, and it is usually those types of people that will be the first ones to literally jump in front of a bullet for the ones that they love.**

**If I was able to make you like my James, please say something nice about him.**


	19. The Calm Before The Storm

**AN: I didn't skip a week, I actually posted an outtake to Finding Relief last week so if you haven't checked that out please do so.**

**Ok, so I have to tell you guys that another reason that this has taken so long is that this story is really beating the shit out of me lately. Never did I believe that it was going to be so hard, which is rather stupid of me, because I don't handle death all that well in RL, so getting in Jasper's mind during this time has truly been a difficult endeavor. Please know that I'm just as anxious to get back to the happy times as you are. With that being said, I can understand how this story is starting to feel a lot like the **_**Legends of the Fall**_**, but I promise you that good times are right around the corner for Jazz. We will see him smiling again very soon. **

**By the way, I have to thank some anonymous person for nominating me in two categories for Jasper's Darlin's annual **_**Everything is Bigger in Texas**_** contest. **_**Finding Forgiveness**_** has been nominated for **_**best AH Jasper**_**. Holy moly, the competition is intense in this category and I am just shocked that someone thought of my Jasper at that time. Also, **_**Finding Relief**_** was nominated for a very appropriate "**_**Best WTF moment**_**". So, if my little cliffie at the the end of that story made you go WTF, or maybe my Tanya/Felix roleplaying chapter made you go WTF, then please go vote for my story. You can find the voting at: Jaspersdarlins (dot) blogspot (dot) com.**

**Cullen818 is pure awesomeness. She literally beta'd this in an hour. COME ON! Who does that shit?**

**I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.**

* * *

_**I'm not afraid of death. It's the stake one puts up in order to play the game of life. – Jean Giraudoux, Amphitryon, 1929**_

**Chapter 19 - The Calm Before The Storm**

"Please Rosie. I can't do it."

"Jasper, this is _your_ cat." Rosie attempts to thrust Bruiser back in my arms.

"Yeah. I brought him home, but he liked James better. Please, Rose…just for a while. Just until I get my shit together." I plead with Rose, because she just has to understand. I can't stand to look at the damn animal right now. I can't stand to watch him sit by the door, or look out the window, every goddamn day waiting for someone to show up that never will.

One more push and I'll have her acquiesce. "I…I forgot to feed him yesterday, and I didn't realize it until this afternoon." It is a lie, but she looks appalled…so, whatever, mission fucking accomplished.

"Fine. You're buying the food though, and I'd really like to know how are you going to get your shit together Jazz? You need to get some professional help."

"Don't start this shit with me…not today." I warn her, not needing a fucking lecture at the moment.

"Then what day Jazz? What day can I start this shit with you? This. Is. Not. Healthy." She waves her arm around the living room. Clothes are scattered about, containers still full of food are littering the floor.

"I don't know…maybe next week." My comment causes Rosalie to snort, but it appears she is going to let the subject drop.

Her voice and attitude change, and her head hangs. "Okay, I'll be back at nine in the morning tomorrow." She says quietly.

_The funeral._

She approaches me, and gives an awkward one armed hug, since she is still holding onto Bruiser, and then kisses me on the cheek hard. "Thanks for letting me go through your pictures." She whispers in my ear. "Look nice tomorrow, okay? That means "shower", you smell like an opossum, and wear the suit I laid out for you." She strokes my cheek with her free hand for a brief second. I look away because I cannot stand to see the compassion in her eyes. "We have to get there early to set up and y'know…just be there first." She finishes, lamely, her bottom lip trembling.

I grab the back of her head and bring our foreheads together. What would I do without her? She is trying to be strong for me, I know. This is hard for her, too. She and James were closer than they both would have liked to admit, and she had to practically plan James funeral on her own. James father supplied the funds and that is about it. Because of this, Rosalie went all out, buying the best of everything, spending as much of Mr. Hunter's money as possible. "Thanks Rosie…for everything." I whisper, and then cut it off there, because that is all we can both handle in this moment.

She starts to walk toward the door, but pivots half way, turning her head in my direction. "We'll get through this together." I can do nothing but nod my head in affirmation, even though I am not sure I believe her.

She closes the front door softly, but it might as well have been done with a resounding boom, because I am once again trapped in this living hell all by myself. I walk over to my makeshift bed on the couch because I haven't been able to enter the back part of the house where the bedrooms are. The reason I stink is because I haven't even been able to get myself to go down that hall, passed James room, to the bathroom that houses our only shower.

I sit down and bury my head in my hands.

_Well, add two more to the Jasper death toll._ I chuckle sardonically.

Goddamn, I have to be losing it.

But Leah? I must suck at reading people because I never thought that she was that fucked up. She killed herself…over me? Well, I am assuming that's what happened, but I haven't read Embry Call's statement to verify it yet. What a pair they are. Fucking lunatics.

Besides James, I can't think of one person,that knew me that didn't try to stop me from getting involved in prostitution. They knew I would meet sick fucks, but the price for being stupid was too much. _James, oh god, James._ I pull at my hair, as misery rips through me.

Why can't I fucking cry? I want to so fucking bad. I need to, but the tears won't come. I pull at my hair harder, trying to inspire tears, but the attempt is unsuccessful.

He is dead, and I am alive. I am alive, because he is dead.

I still had so much shock coursing through me. This doesn't seem real. I lie down in the couch and drape the thin blanket over my body, to supply comfort more than to provide warmth.

I wonder if Bella and I ever would have gotten together if she would be able to fill this gaping hole inside of me, if she would be able to offer me the consolation that I require, or would I just push her away. Who am I kidding? I would have sucked the life out of her, and when I was done there would be nothing left of the beautiful, charismatic girl that I had once known.

No, Bella was extremely lucky to have escaped from my clutches, and just in the nick of time.

And it is with those comforting thoughts that I finally fall into slumber.

It doesn't take long before I wake up in a cold sweat. My nightmares had dimmed significantly over the past couple of months, but now they are back with a vengeance. I revisit Claire's death, as usual, but now the nightmare twists, and jolts me to consciousness when I envision what, my version of, James' last minutes were like.

The dream always drains me and it worries me to read Embry's written statement of the incident, because it would be a detailed version of things that were said…and done. It will be hard to know all the facts, but I know it is something that I have to do.

To try and impossibly take my mind off of everything, I turn on the TV. M*A*S*H, is on, and it always helped me fall asleep as a kid, so I put the remote down and burrow my head into the cushion. I doubt I made it through the beginning credits before I fell back to sleep.

The next morning I feel the sun shining through the large picture window, and it helps me to realize that, once again, I am sleeping on the couch and that none of the past couple of days were just a horrific nightmare.

I open my eyes to another day of having to deal with James being gone.

With resignation, I manage to rise to my feet and stumble into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. The liquid seems to be the only thing that I consume these days. I absently rub my chest and abdomen feeling the bones beginning to show signs of protrusion from forced malnutrition.

I am aware that I will eventually have to eat, and that I won't be able to function for long if I keep up the same M.O, but I honestly don't think I am capable of keeping anything down right now.

I lean against the counter, with my mug idle in my hand, as I stare at the kitchen table. I see James and Rosalie sparring and laughing. He is forever teasing her about why she has no friends, and she rebuts by making fun of his looks. She knows that attacking James vanity is the worst possible insult that you can give him.

I am not that fucking nuts, it's not a hallucination resurrected by a fatigued mind, I had just lost myself in a moment of reverie…happier times.

When Claire died I refused to think about her and I never said her name…I couldn't. My self-preservation mode wanted to pretend like she didn't exist, but I am much older now, and I like to think that I can deal with my problems a little bit better, even if it isn't exactly true.

But I don't want to pretend that James never existed, but somehow I don't even think that it is possible, if I wanted to. Everything around me screams James.

"James, James, James." I test the name on my tongue, saying it out loud, and even though I feel an unbearable, excruciating pain I need to do it. I won't be able to make it through today, since I was guaranteed to hear it over and over again, as well as have to say it a time or two.

Exhausted beyond comprehension, I know that it is now time to tackle the issue of getting into the shower. I throw the remains of my coffee into the sink and make my way slowly down the hall, but when I get closer to James' door I freeze.

_Man the fuck up._

I can say that as much as I wanted to, but seeing James' door to his own sanctuary, where everything in that room holds his personal belongings, tears at me. I can give myself as many pep talks as I want, but it doesn't make the pain go away. I am not imagining the ache, and if I am bringing this all upon myself, I have no idea how to smother it.

I take a step forward, until it becomes several steps and they come quickly, one after another until I have lurched into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning against it for support.

_I need to get the hell out of here._ As soon as the dust settles I have to put the house up for sale.

Safely in the confines of the Formica tiled enclosure I strip down quickly and enter the hot spray. I put my head under the water, and a small ripple of pleasure runs through me as I dampen my greasy hair. I reach for the soap while I remain under the shower head. I soap most of my body before the scent catches my attention, and I realize that I have used James' soap, instead of picking up my own. I toss the soap aside like a hot brand that had just scarred my skin, and grasp mine, violently rewashing my body. My skin reddens and burns under the assault. When James' soap no longer permeates the air, I finally put my bar aside. I lean against the back wall and slide down, curling up so that I can rest my forehead on my knees. _How can I do this?_

It is one horrendous experience to lose your best friend, but another whole beast to find that he died in your stead. After an indeterminable amount of time the water feels tepid, and I know it is time to start this angst-ridden day.

I quickly make it to my room and touch the suit that Rosalie laid out for me. I had bought this suit when Marcus got married. James and I got so fucking wasted at that wedding, and when Garrett, the designated driver for the night drove James, Sebastian and I home, James spilled the contents of stomach, vomiting all over the shoes I had worn. I peer down to the floor, and notice that thankfully, Rosalie had picked a different pair.

I glance in the corner, to my beautiful new piece of furniture. I walk over to it, and glide my fingertips along the surface.

I struggle not to think about our final conversation. James knew how I felt about him…he just had to have fucking known. I can't imagine living with the thought of him thinking that I thought I was better than him, or that I didn't want to be his friend anymore. But, no, thank the fucking stars, he listened to the message that I left him, and responded exactly how I would have imagined he would…by blowing it off.

I sit down in the desk chair and lay my head down on the cool surface.

_God help me today._

^*^

We hold you close within our hearts

And there you shall remain

To walk with us throughout our lives

Until we meet again.

^*^

So rest in peace dear loved one

And thanks for all you've done.

We pray that God has given you

The crown you've truly won.

^*^

_James Xavier Hunter_

_June 1, 1983 – October 16, 2009_

^*^

I grasp the laminated memorial card in my hand in a death grip, and a small piece of paper with notes scrawled on it equally as tight in the other, as I stare, from the first pew, at the casket in front of me. I will give a eulogy even it destroys me. I know I am no way prepared for this, and saying James name out loud is like a stab in the gut, but what other person is qualified to give such a speech?

To say that I owed it to him would be the understatement of a fucking lifetime.

When Claire died, so many people had gotten up to say beautiful, loving things about her. They recounted memory after memory of how sweet of a child she was. I could hardly sit there and listen to it, at the time. Having to standby and listen to the recollections of Claire's happiness, kindheartedness, and funny nature was like being impaled on a stake slowly, inch by inch, as each story was told. Pure fucking torture of the worst variety.

But who will say kind things about James? James had friends, but will they bother to come up and say a few words? I can't stand the thought of nobody saying anything, so it will take everything in me, all of the meager energy that I have, but I will get up there and try to explain to everyone what I think of James.

Will I be able to articulate the way I feel about him? Probably not. Will anyone here be able to understand what he meant to me and how much I valued our friendship? Not a chance. Can I convince them that James was a good man, despite it all? That he didn't deserve to die, that it should have been me in the first place? Fuck no. But at the end of the day, did it really fucking matter? I still had to go home without my best friend.

Rosalie is whisking back and forth setting up a collage of pictures that I don't intend to look at, flowers and candles I don't intend on smelling. I actually don't plan on getting up from this spot. Today, coming into the church with a heavy heart, I felt like an old man trudging uphill. Rosalie held my arm, she made it look like she was just placing it there affectionately, but really she was keeping me upright, whether she knew it or not.

I hear a voice and I turn around. James' dad stands at the back of the church, pacing as he talks on his cell phone. _How nice that he decided to show up._ What a fucking dickhead. I wanted so badly to rip the fucking phone out of his hands and bitch slap him with it. If I had the fucking energy I would have. Instead I just turn back slowly into my seat.

This is the first time I saw Mr. Hunter since…the death, it appears that he is doing just fine.

I continue to stare at the expensive stainless steel box. _So fucking final._ It's still so hard to believe that James is in it. How the hell am I going to survive this? My torturous thoughts center on a bleak and desolate future.

When I hear the church doors open and heels clanking on the wooden floorboards I pivot in my seat. Jessica walks in, obviously grief-stricken. Her hair is in disarray, her heavy make-up is smudged along her pale face, and the sunken shadows under her eyes are noticeable even from the distance for which she stands from me. I haven't seen her since before the incident. Living in my own nightmare, I haven't even thought about calling her. I stand up, intending to give her a hug in greeting.

Her eyes search the church before they fall on the object at the altar. Her tears fall in torrents down her face, as she cries out uncontrollably. She appears to have a moment of awakening, and she searches the room landing on me. She moves toward me and it takes me a moment for me to realize that she is not just approaching me, she is stomping her feet with every step.

As she bears down on me her face contorts into an agonized grimace. "You." She says loudly, pointing to me. "You son of a bitch." Rosalie is on the other side of the church, but when she hears Jessica's comments she makes a beeline for me, but she doesn't make it in time. I don't defend myself when Jessica cracks her palm against my cheek hard. "It was supposed to be you…you fucking asshole. You…you killed him." She shrieks.

Before Rosalie can get to her James' dad clamps onto both of her biceps roughly. I can tell because Jessica winces and whimpers from the pain he is inflicting. "Listen you little fucking piece of white trash, if you want to stay you better shut your goddamn mouth. You don't need to make more of a spectacle of yourself than you already guaranteed to do, just by being you. I know you are extremely upset that James died, as we all are, but it doesn't do James any good now to blame Jasper. Do you understand me?"

Jessica shakes her head feebly. "Yes." She whispers, but her eyes dart to mine with malice before she looks back at Mr. Hunter. "I would like to say a few words at the service if you don't mind?" She says sweetly.

He looks at her in disgust. "What is your name again?"

Jessica's eyes widen. "It's Jessica, sir."

He sighs dramatically. "Well, Jessica…there is no fucking way that I would let you stand up there and make a goddamn fool of my son." He takes a menacing step toward her and looks down into her tear and makeup streaked face. "You are lucky I am letting you stick around at all. Now clean yourself up and try to act appropriately for the little time I will be forced to suffer your company."

Jessica ambles away, but not without sending me another scathing look. "Well, it doesn't look like we will be having Jessica over for dinner anytime soon." Rosalie says sarcastically over my shoulder. I turn my head sideways, so she can see my own scathing look. She shrugs and turns back toward her attempt at personalizing the space.

^*^

I didn't look around throughout the service. I had heard many voices while people filed in, but I remained in my seat staring at the altar, clearly not inviting conversation. There will be time for "socializing" at the brunch that Rosalie scheduled after the burial. It is a custom, but I find it extremely repugnant. The thought of having an appetite, joking and laughing, while James is being buried seems utterly revolting.

The oration was nice. The priest went through several scriptures, a small sermon and various prayers. He called Rosalie up to read a passage and poem, but I barely paid attention. I only remember discombobulated pieces, as I am pretty sure that I was going in and out of consciousness throughout the ordeal.

Once the priest finds his end, without words, he looks at Mr. Hunter who shakes his head minutely, signaling that he doesn't want to say anything. The priest looks slightly disconcerted for a moment, and then turns his eyes to me.

I slowly rise from my seat and proceed to the microphone. I take a deep breath as I look into the faces set out before me. The church is amazingly filled to capacity, and for some reason, it irritates me. I see Eric, my old best friend, and James cousin, sitting with his wife and two point five kids, studying his nails, James dad who was intermittently staring at his blackberry, and other's that I am not completely certain James even knew.

I wonder if his dad had set this up. It wouldn't be too much of surprise to me if he made sure there wasn't a seat available because, God forbid, people might think that his son wasn't liked by the masses.

I clear my throat, and everyone's full attention is drawn to me.

"On October 16th, I lost my best friend…and by all intents and purposes…" I pause. _I can't do this._ I squeeze my eyes shut, and search desperately for strength from the ache, closing around me, trying to shut me down. "I…I lost my brother. My family…and at one time what I considered, my _only_ family. I loved… I loved…" I choke on unshed tears that would not spill for the best friend / brother I will never see again. My sorrow knows no bounds…again, and the pain and self loathing return in full force, incapacitating me in front of a room full of virtual strangers.

I gaze, in a blur, at only the people I did know, searching for the comfort I need to continue this tribute. They all watch me with tears in their eyes and expressions full of a mixture of pity, sorrow and mourning. I can't match their tears, I won't show them in that way how much I agonized over the lost of my dearest friend, but it is evident for all to see, that I am a broken man. I am a fucking mess…

_A mess..._

"James was a fucking mess." I blurt, and receive shocked expressions all around, except for Rosalie who smirks, and James' dad who looks pissed, but I continue with resolve, as I speak louder and surer. "And I loved him that way. I went through an especially hard time when I was younger and James was there for me when no one else was." Eric's eyes are downcast, and Rosalie's tears swell over onto her cheeks and I manage a weak smile for her so that she knows that wasn't meant to hurt her. "In the beginning, my emotions were too overwhelming for a teenage boy to handle. I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I am ashamed to say, it had led to occasional suicidal thoughts. I honestly don't know if I would be standing here today had I not known James." I find my first genuine smile in three days. "James channeled all that suicidal energy into rough housing, aggressive behavior, carousing, mild drug use, and maybe a few misdemeanors." This inspires chuckles all around, and I am feeling slightly more at ease.

"Everyone who knew James knows that he loved to live on the wild side. James just had a zest for life, and I don't have to tell you that James liked to play life hard. He lived everyday to the fullest and he never backed down from a challenge. James wasn't the type to work nine to five, or sit in a cubicle. I think James interned at a law firm just to see how we could squeeze the life out of every law out there. James knew how far we could go before would get in trouble, and then if we managed to anyway, he found us enough loop holes to get out of it. Some could say that if James applied himself to the right tasks that he may have made something more out of himself, but James was already something special. He wasn't perfect by society's standards, but he was the perfect friend. I will never be able to express how much I valued James in my life. I can't begin to articulate the countless times that James has done to enrich my life and I will be forever grateful that I had him with me. He was my best friend and my brother…and…" My shaky voice trails off when I have no breath left in my lungs, and I realize that I have temporarily stopped breathing. I sway slightly, and Rosie moves to get up but I hold out my hand inconspicuously to let her know that I am fine. I take a few steadying breaths and finish with my eyes close, as the words torture me. "…and I will miss him dearly for the rest of my life."

I move back to my seat, and the priest grabs the microphone. "Thank you, Jasper. Would anyone else like to say something?"

Rosalie stands up and heads for the mic. "James had a kind, gentle, generous heart with a callous exterior. That might surprise some of you to know that James was actually a big softy, because he didn't let his guard down with too many people, but when he did, he was utterly devoted to you. He gave his friends anything and everything…including…" She swallows and looks at me briefly before returning her eyes back to the others. "…to some of us, he gave life…" She swipes at the twin tears that had fallen onto her cheeks. "…and he gave hope…and for that, among other things, there will always be a space in my heart reserved for my brother's brother, and my dear friend, James."

Before Rosalie has even finished Marcus is standing by her side with his four year old daughter. "I have been friends with James for a little over three years, and I also have a memory to share of James gentleness and caring nature. About a year ago, James had found a stray dog and one of her puppies on the highway, wandering in and out of morning rush hour traffic. James stopped his car in one of the lanes of traffic and coaxed the mother and pup into his car. He brought them home, and to the extreme dismay of Jasper's cat, he kept them in the house for two weeks until he was able to find a suitable home for them. He actually interviewed several potential owners before he reluctantly took a chance on a willing family."

Marcus brings the mic down to his daughter, Casey's, level. "We…we love our dogs…and…and we love James." She exclaims exuberantly, as she plays with the hem of her dress.

Marcus pats Casey on the back lovingly, and looks back toward the shiny coffin. "I will miss you, my man. Requiescat in pace." He looks at the mass. "And to you all…carpe diem."

By the time Marcus is done a line has formed, and I am as fucking happy as I possibly can be at that moment. I listened to all of their accounts intently; supremely proud that James had touched lives, even more than I have ever been aware.

There are several other accounts of James' generosity, as several representatives from different charities James had donated to on a regular basis, as well as a worker from the homeless shelter that James helped out at every Monday.

Wherever James and I ended up, he always immediately searched out a local shelter to volunteer at. I had offered on more than one occasion to go with him, but it was always the one thing that he wanted to do on his own. He did, however, ask for my assistance on Thanksgiving and Christmas, which I gladly accepted. It was a pleasant surprise to see how he interacted with people in this situation. Many of the patrons knew James' name, and he always made an effort to talk to most of them, and give them words of encouragement. I don't think James ever wanted anyone to know what a nice guy he could really be.

After the service is over, and people start to file out, Mr. Hunter, Rosalie and me stand by the door.

I run on autopilot, mechanically receiving consolatory handshakes and hugs. It isn't until Sebastian comes around that my façade crumbles around me. His eyes are red and swollen, he looks tired, like he hasn't slept. He was the last one to see James alive, and I want that connection with him, so I clutch him in a tight hug.

Being at the scene has obviously done a number on him and thankfully, he hung back and waited for the rest of the people to leave, so he could be the last one, because I wasn't prepared for the ambush of emotions.

His body shakes, as sobs wrack his body. "Jasper, oh my god…if I just would have known." He cries into my shoulder. The anguish almost brings me to my knees, I clutch the back of his suit jacket in fists. "I…I would have done…anything to stop it, Jazz." He pulls away and stares desperately in my eyes. "You know that…right? Please." He begs.

My breath is ragged, and I feel close to passing out. I shake my head and whisper the only comfort I can at this time. "Yes."

^*^

After the talk with Sebastian I just couldn't stomach the luncheon. As we wait for the burial ceremony to commence I plead with Rosalie to drive me home afterward. "If you promise to eat the plate of food that I bring you home." She bargains.

"Yes. Please." I would have eaten a plate full of horseshit if it meant that I wouldn't have to endure any more of this.

The small ceremony is over within minutes, and the few people that attended this part of the festivities scatter immediately, including Mr. Hunter. I ask Rosalie to go to the car, while I stay behind to watch as they lower the casket into the hole. The groundskeeper operating the small bulldozer gets down from the equipment, and lifts a small shovel in his hand. "Do you want to throw the first dirt?"

_He wants me to help bury him? Haven't I already done my share of that?_

"No."

He tosses the shovel aside and gets into the machinery. Within moments he is piling dirt on top of the cement apparatus, and when there isn't any of the encasement left to be seen, I bend down and fist some of the dirt lying by the side, sifting it through my fingers.

And with one more look into the open grave I say under my breath, "You're wrong. It is my fault."

I turn, and walk over to the vehicle where Rosalie and Mr. Hunter are having a conversation. When I get within hearing distance I can hear Mr. Hunter telling Rosalie that she did a fine job on the service.

When I reach them, Mr. Hunter gives me a hard pat on the back, but says nothing. But I don't expect anything. "So, when are we going to be able to see Embry's statement?" I ask.

There is no way that I could miss the hesitant glance that Mr. Hunter sends to Rosalie.

So, I am left to wonder why _the fucking fuck_ did they just exchange a look?

* * *

**AN: Okay, so I cried when I wrote this one. Unfortunately, it brought back alot of unwelcome memories.**

**I want to mention that it amazes me how this story affects people differently. I have had some people that have been reading my story since the beginning of Finding Relief and they have just added the story to their favorites, and I have had others that have read since the beginning, and now have dropped the story all together. So it is very interesting how this story is having the opposite effect on people. In any case, I thank you all for reading, and sticking with the story for as long as you have.**

**Please let me know your thoughts. **


	20. The Storm

**AN: Okay, a few things. Thanks to ****Christine30974****, who came forward as at least one of the people that nominated my fics in the **_**Everything is Bigger In Texas**_** contest. You still have some time to vote, so if you haven't please head over to the Jasper's Darlin's blog and vote!**

**I want to also give thanks to ****MustangMe1986**** for being my 1000****th**** review!! And to thank everyone else that helped her get me there. You guys have been fantastic. Your comments the last few chapters have brought tears to my eyes.**

**Since I made it to 1000 reviews, I was put in my very own C2 "Jasper/Bella over 1000 club". The community link is in my profile. Join the, over 170 people that subscribe to make sure you don't miss any great fics that meet this milestone. There are over 45 stories in there now. Unfortunately, there are only a handful of "human stories", so if you are reading one you really like, please review, they don't get traffic like the "vampire stories" do, and therefore, don't make it in the best C2 ever!**

**Speaking of, if you are looking for a great "human" story, please try **_**Wanted **_**by ****Anadbyel****. Help her get this little piece of awesomeness in the C2.**

**One more thank you to ****Lady Blue Knight****, who made a banner as a tribute to James. It is beautiful. It is not on my profile yet, but it will be. She is also making one for my J/E fic, **_**Love at First Sight**_**, so once I get them up I will let you know.**

**Sorry for the longwinded AN. A lot of great things happened this week.**

**I do not own twilight or any of its characters.**

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"_**Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow." - **____**Alice Mackenzie Swaim**_

**Chapter 20 – The Storm**

I have two sets of eyes on me as I ask the question again. "What the hell is going on?"

We had parted at the cemetery with the promise of telling me what was going on after the luncheon. I was too exhausted to fight it, so Rosalie had dropped me off at home. She returned an hour later with the plate of food that I had promised her I would eat. She made small talk until Mr. Hunter arrived, and I ate. She filled me in on the happenings at the luncheon, and passed on some condolences from people that hadn't waited in line at the church.

Now they were both in front of me, Rosalie looking at her hands clasped on the table, and Mr. Hunter studying his Blackberry intently. I push back the empty plate, because true to my word, I at the whole goddamn plate, even though Rosalie unfairly piled it on. I feel sick to my stomach, and I internally bet myself that I won't make it an hour with the contents still in stomach, especially, since I will finally have Embry's statement to read.

Are they going to make me ask again? They are hiding something from me, and I am getting a bit pissed. I must be doing an excellent of wearing my emotions on my sleeve because Mr. Hunter finally speaks up. "Calm down, boy. We have the answers for you even though you aren't going to like it, but we are only doing what is right." We?

_Oh, what the fucking hell?_

"Well, I guess I can start by showing you this." He pulls out an envelope from his inside pocket of his blazer. Rosalie wrings her hands in nervous anticipation. It seems as though I am the last one here to read this.

Looking at the ominous white envelope, I feel my heart race._ This is it._

"Have you read this?" I ask Rosalie, tilting the envelope in her direction.

She shakes her head slowly. "No." My expression must show my skepticism because she amends. "I didn't read it, but I know the gist of it."

I pull the sheet of paper from the envelope, and with shaky hands I unfold it slowly. I shut my eyes briefly, and will myself to calm down.

I begin to read, while I can feel the stares of the other two in the room.

"What??" _Oh, this isn't going to be good. _I don't even get passed the first eight words.

_I, Embry Call, admit to killing Jasper Hale…_

"What the hell is this? Jasper Hale? There is a bit of a typo here. He didn't kill me…" I say, throwing the offending document on the table.

"We know that, but we are trying to finish what James started by protecting you. If Embry realizes he didn't kill the right guy, he will surely be coming after you. Some of my investigators have found that he does some type of classified government work and he has a lot of contacts. Very shady contacts. All it would take is one call from him, and they would finish what he started. I had to pull a lot of strings to get this accomplished Jasper."

"But he. Did. Not. Kill. ME! He murdered James…your son. Doesn't James deserve to get acknowledged?" There is no way that I can allow this. I shake my head adamantly. "Nope. I want the record set straight."

"So, James died for nothing then?" Mr. Hunter yells, as he slams his fist into his palm. He's shaken, but visibly calms before he continues, so he can speak with reason. "You won't let me finish what he wanted to do for you? To protect you? You were the only thing that James ever took seriously. Picking you up off the ground was the only noble thing that James ever did in his life."

I stand and my palm cracks on the table with my fury. "HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU DIDN"T FUCKING KNOW HIM." I roar, and I am the closest to tears as I have ever been in almost ten years. I can feel the liquid pool in them, but they refuse to fall. How could James have such an uncaring father, when he himself had felt so passionate about so many different things?

James' dad is red-faced, and dealing with a rage of his own. "You better talk to him missy…" He jabs his pointed finger in my direction. "…straighten him out. He is not going to fuck this up." With that being said, he stalks out of the house.

I turn on her. "You agreed to this?" I ask unbelievingly, as I toss the paper in her direction.

She stands up and grasps onto my shoulders. "Jazz, he died for you. He died so you could live. Live the way he wanted you too. Make this all worth something. Just think about it. Who cares if Embry thinks he killed his intended target? You know…I know…everyone today knew who really died. Please Jasper. James was so worried about you…" She trails off, but it is too late.

I pull away from her. "What do you mean "he was worried about me"?" Rosalie's face flushes with guilt.

_Stupid, stupid Jasper._

James' plan was premeditated. "Did he know? Did you know?" I ask for confirmation and I can plainly see Rosalie's hesitation to answer me, and so, I have my answer. I gasp. "How long?" I croak. "How long did you both know?"

"I was going to tell you after things calmed down; I wanted you to know that James told me about Embry about a week before…" She growls in apparent frustration, it is clearly upsetting her that she has to tell me this after being confronted instead of on her own, as she said she had planned. "God, Jazz, yes, he told me that he found out, while he was working, that Embry had been around, and was looking for you. He also knew that Embry carried a gun because Jessica had seen it on more than one occasion. He knew he was dangerous, and James was scared that his intentions were to seriously harm or kill you."

I back away from her, as my eyes grow wide. "So, you both decided it was a good plan to basically let him commit suicide?"

"NO JASPER!" She screams, and her tears fall in torrents. "I didn't know what he was going to do. He just said he was going to take care of it. I would have never let him do what he did if I would have known. You have to believe that." She evidently sees my doubt. "I know what you are thinking, and yes, you do come first, Jazz, but we could have come up with a different way, I would never, ever have condoned or agreed with James about going with Embry."

She tries to explain, but it is of no use, because my mind is only running on one track. "It could've turned out so different - if you would have both just trusted me…" I am speaking my thoughts more to myself, but at this stinging revelation I raise my eyes to her tear streaked face, but at this moment, I can feel no pity for her. "We could have come up with a plan; a plan where we all got to fucking live, Rosalie. " She extends her hand out to me, but I flinch from her touch. "I need you to leave, Rosalie; I can't talk to you right now."

"Jazz…" She beseeches, and all the desperation is there in her eyes for me to see.

"Get out." I can't even think straight, and I need to be alone.

"Can't we just talk…" She pleads. I shake my head at her in disgust.

"GET OUT!!"

She grabs her jacket, and walks to the front door. She reaches for the knob but turns her head to pierce me with her ice blue eyes. "If you do anything besides sulk about what's been revealed today, just think about what Mr. Hunter and I have said. Right or wrong, please don't let James death be for nothing."

As the door closes, I drop back into the chair, and stare at the paper lying on the table. I smack my hand down in the center of it, and slide it over to me slowly. My eyes reluctantly scan down to the very bottom, and notice that the words are cutoff mid-sentence; the sentence where Embry led James willingly to the alley for which he was eventually found in. Someone has obviously decided, for me…again, that I don't need to know what happened after that point.

Folding my arms on the table, I lay my head down. For once in this fucked up situation I am grateful that I am being left in the dark.

^*^

How much torture can one withstand?

He left me fucking everything. The goddamn son of a motherfucking bitch left me everything he had…and it is a lot. I never realized he had such a sizeable net worth. James had a small fortune and now it is mine.

He knew I never spent my parent's inheritance. What did he think I would do with his money? Another fortune I won't be spending.

Mr. Hunter and Rosalie are the only other attendees at the reading of James will. A will, that it appears, had just recently been updated.

Rosalie is here for support only. We haven't spoken since the encounter at my house two days ago. So, she keeps to the back of the room, remaining silent and watchful, in the event that I finally decide to fall apart.

Mr. Hunter is perfectly satisfied with the fact that James left him nothing more than a key to a safety deposit box. Well, I guess I shouldn't look at it that way since I have no idea what is in the box, or that he even had one. I am curious, but like all of my other emotions, it isn't strong enough for me to afford the effort of inquiring.

Nothing seems worth the effort anymore.

Everything is black and white, dim and dreary. I walk around with a black cloud hanging over my head; meandering through these last days in a dense fog of depression and guilt. I am lucid enough to know I am losing it, but I can't find the energy to climb out of this hole, so I yield to the haze and wait for the imminent breakdown.

We are sequestered in a tiny room to wait for the signing of the documents, and I am broken from my never ending self-loathing thoughts when James' dad clears his throat uncomfortably. "Jasper, I hope you had a chance to reconsider what we talked about."

I did think about it. A lot. And after careful deliberation I still don't fully agree, but I decide to go along with it…for now. It will take a lot of soul searching, which I just don't have the strength in me to do right now, before I will have a more permanent answer to that. So, to save the battle, and the foreseeable unpleasant scene that a negative response would provoke, I muster a weak nod. It is the only affirmation that I will provide at this time. James' dad seems satisfied, with the miniscule acquiesce.

He sighs heavily. "Jasper, we've decided to accept Embry's plea of insanity. The doctors haven't specifically diagnosed him yet, but he shows several signs of Schizophrenia. He will be taken to a psychiatric facility for observation and recovery. I just wanted you to be the first one to hear."

I glance at Rosalie, and she looks just as shocked and pissed as I feel.

_Screw the fucking awkward scene._ "What??" I hiss.

"We are foregoing the trial, Jasper. He's accepted the charges against him, and will serve his time in an institution where he can get the help that he needs. There is no need to make a spectacle of what's happened." _No need to make a spectacle of what's happened?_

_Are you kidding me? _

"No, what it really fucking sounds like is that you are worried about tarnishing the precious Hunter name by having a fair, and public trial." I retort.

"What I am doing Jasper, is in the best interest of everyone. Including James. Do you want people to think James was scum? That he deserved to die because he made ill choices? Once those vultures in the media pick up on this story they will dig up everything on the both of you."

"Look, I can understand that you don't want people remembering James that way. I appreciate that you are looking out for him…and me, in that way, but that asshole deserves to rot in prison." I argue.

"We all just want…no, we need this to be over." He responds wearily.

"I want it to be over just as much as you, but that doesn't mean I want that freak to go free."

"He is not going free Jasper. He's a sick man, and for that he will get what he deserves."

"So you are just going to sweep this under the rug?" I don't wait for an answer to the rhetorical question, because I didn't want to hear any more of the bullshit he is inventing and spewing. There is no use of trying to convince him to reconsider. The deal had been struck. Embry could walk after spending a cushy five to ten in a mental ward. _Fan-fucking-tastic_.

I grab my jacket, and stalk to the door.

I pause at the door, but don't turn around. "Where is the justice for James?" I ask. I hear Mr. Hunter mumble something, and I walk out, but not before I deliver my parting shot. I turn halfway around and I give Mr. Hunter the most contemptuous look that I can manage. "Well then, I guess we are done here. I hope I don't see you for a very long time, Mr. Hunter. Because, when, and if, I ever recover from this nightmare, I won't be as pleasant as I have been today."

^*^

I look down into my cart, and try to figure out if I have enough to last me until I come back to the grocery store again. I mentally calculate that the contents of my cart would equate to about two days worth of food, and since I don't on plan on coming back for another month, at least, I turn around and head back toward the food to try to find something I can possibly keep in my stomach.

Nothing looks appetizing as I traverse down the aisles, but I am not really looking _at_ anything. I could have been blindfolded for as much as I am seeing.

But then suddenly I see red.

The first real color I had seen in what seems like forever. It stands out in the heavy blanket of monotonous, bleak hues that I have been accustomed to, almost blinding me with its brilliance. I park my cart up next to the display, and pick up a piece of the ripened fruit. I hold it up to my nose and deeply inhale the scent.

"_An apple a day, keeps the doctor away." James says in a sing-song voice._

It is hard to believe that he had just said that a couple of weeks ago. It feels like a lifetime.

James had always tried to get me to eat apples, always spewing the nutritional values and health benefits, but I would never listen, and I would always refuse. He fucking died for me, and I couldn't even eat a piece of fruit for him.

_What kind of friend was I?_

I grab a plastic bag. It's a little late, but by all that is holy, I will eat one of these goddamn things every day. I start dumping them into the bag.

_How long do these things stay good for?_

"Hey stranger."

No...

It's not real…if you don't turn around than she really isn't there, but I am fucking moron, so I turn around and face none other than Bella.

She hasn't changed at all, and she looks absolutely perfect. Such a sight for sore eyes.

My eyes actually ache looking at her beauty.

"Bella." My voice sounds rough, like I haven't used it in days. Her supple lips, that I remember being so soft against my skin, stretch into a tentative smile. She seems nervous…afraid of something. I know I must look awful, but surely not that scary.

"Hi, Jazz…how are you?" I have to force my eyes not to flicker shut when she says my childhood nickname. God, how I love hearing her sweet voice say my name. My eyes roam over her covetously, and I am surprised to see that she is doing the same, although I am not sure it is for the same reasons.

I look like a bum compared to her. Before I came to the store I stopped at home to change quickly, so I stand in my favorite pair of jeans the consequently had a hole in the knee and an old t-shirt.

She looks like she just got off of work. She has on business attire, and her long beautiful chocolate hair is neatly arranged, and pulled back from her face by a headband. I want to bury my nose in those soft tresses…who am I kidding? I want to bury my whole self inside of her.

Can she help me forget the hell of the last few weeks? If anyone can, it would be her.

No, nothing can make me forget what has happened, so I do the smart thing and try to end this conversation quickly and amicably. "Great Bella, how are you?"

Nice. I guess this day just won't be complete without Bella, of all people, telling me how great her life is with her boyfriend…lover. Ugh, whatever.

"Yeah…me too." She is staring at me intently. I'm sure she's studying the difference in Jazz, the prostitute, to Jazz, the destitute. Well, not really, I was actually very wealthy, but only materialistically. I really have nothing to offer anyone.

So why am I standing here, wasting this precious girls time? It's true that I can stare at her all night, but haven't I been selfish enough?

Her eyes are glazed over, and I don't know where she went, but obviously she doesn't want to be in my company any longer. "Bella, I have got to get going…" Her eyes look sad, making me lose the rest of my sentence.

"Don't go…not yet." She says quickly, with a blush tinting her cheeks, making her look all the more desirable…and unattainable.

_Why? _

Why does she have to be in this store, right now, on this day? What had I done to Fate for it to play with me so cruelly? As if this day hadn't taken every wrong turn it possibly could, I end up here; face-to-face with the only girl I have really ever loved.

"So what are you making for dinner?" She aims for small talk, but I am just not into playing out this farce any longer.

"Bella…" I am frustrated beyond belief, and I just need to get the hell out of here, and safely in the confines of my house before I make a fool out of myself in front of her once again. "I can't…I can't do this with you. I have too much going on right now and I can't go through this again."

"What do you mean by that?" She looks sincere, but she was fucking there, when she "broke it off" with me. She knows exactly what it means.

"You're going to make me actually say it?" I growl out. "What is with you Bella? It was pretty clear that the thing between me and you was completely one-sided. Right?"

_What do I have to do to make this stop?_

She looks…devastated? What does that mean? Is my jumbled mind playing tricks on me?

Goddammit Bella, just say it…tell me I am right. Tell me you always knew it was." I wait for her answer on pins and needles.

_Say it. Say it out loud, dammit._

"Yes…yes, it was one-sided. Okay??" She admits, uncomfortable with the fact.

_Twice the fucking fool. _

God, how embarrassing. I turn my back, trying to gather an ounce of my tattered pride.

"Jazz…"

I can't turn around and face her. I don't have any fight left in me. How could I have let her do this to me again?

"Bella, just leave…please." I beg, hoarsely. Even at this point, I am pathetic enough to want to beg her to stay with me. To give me a chance. So I tense up, willing myself not to move from the spot I am in.

"Jazz…"

_Enough already._

"Please Bella. Leave me with some sanity…please, goddammit." I whisper, and it is with those pitiable words that I hear her scurry off. I can't turn back until I hear her squeaky cart wheel away.

I numbly walk out to the car, forgetting about my purchases.

^*^

_What the fuck just happened?_

I am sitting in my driveway, and I am not even sure how I managed to get home. I don't remember any of the five miles it takes to get from the grocery store to where I sit now.

"What the fuck just happened?" I repeat to myself, out loud this time.

I walk into the house and stare into the foyer mirror. What a bedraggled fucking disaster. _What have I become?_ I am a fucking monster, everyone I come into contact with - I kill. I can't stand the person staring back at me. I hate him…I hate myself with a blazing passion.

It is with little wonder that Bella didn't want anything to do with me. This thought causes a fiery rage to burn through me. With strength I didn't know I still had I punch the man in the mirror. Shards of glass pierce the skin, and blood flows freely down my arms and onto the floor, but I am not fucking done.

I look around with a healthy dose of disdain. I hungrily eye each piece of furniture, and greedily take in the creamy brown colored walls, decorated with beautiful paintings and tapestries.

It is all fucking mine.

"IT IS ALL FUCKING MINE." I shout.

_And I didn't want a goddamn piece of it._

I laugh bitterly, as I slowly give up on sanity, and succumb to the beast inside of me.

I stalk up to the fifty-two inch flat screen television, and with one giant push it topples over onto the floor.

In frenzy, I attack everything with an adrenaline induced vengeance. Nothing is untouched and safe. The sofa arm is broken off, and it's tipped on its side. The glass coffee table lays in broken pieces along the wood flooring. I grab a knife from the kitchen and slash the seats and draperies. I stand back and admire my handiwork, but I don't stop there.

My muddled mind can no longer make sense as I empty each kitchen cupboard onto the floor, until all of the china and glasses lay in a broken heap along the Formica flooring. Doors come off hinges, bedding is slashed, mirrors and glass broken, papers are shredded, chairs and tables are broken, instruments smashed.

I stay away from James' bedroom and head for my own. The mantra in my head is simple and effective: seek and destroy. The rampage continues, pictures are shattered, clothing is ripped, and dressers are decimated. I grab my nightstand table and heave it over my head. I turn to toss it against the wall, so I can hear the gratifying sounds as it busts into pieces, but the piece of furniture lands on the corner of the mahogany desk, that had so far, remained unscathed, and I cry out with a feral roar. "NOoooo!"

I run over to the desk and wipe the remains of the night stand off of it. "Not the desk." I whisper as my hand runs reverently over a small knick in the wood. The small remaining part of my brain that is still sane is pleading with the monster to leave the desk alone, and that is when my will crumbles and I fall to the floor, leaning against the still beautiful desk.

My ragged breath continues harshly and I know the beast is just resting, gearing up for another go. There is still James' room. The devil in me growls in anticipation, but a feeble part of my mind is whimpering. I know that it is a matter of time, so I fight to gain perspective, rationale…motivation…

Motivation to what?

_Live like he wanted you to live._ Rosalie's words come back to me.

In a rush, I grab the cell phone, amazingly still in one piece, in my back pocket and dial Rosalie's number. When she answers, I utter my prayer fervently. "Please come quick." I toss the phone next to me, and lay my head back onto the side of the desk and hope…and pray that she can get here in time.

It seems like thirty seconds and I hear the screeching of the front door open. I think I may have passed out, but I am not completely sure. "Oh my God!! Jasper…where are you?" She yells. I can't speak, as I am in some zombie-like coma. I can hear her tripping over stuff. "Oh my God, Jasper, just tell me your okay for fucksakes…" Her voice trails, as she steps through the threshold into my bedroom, and sees me. Her tear soaked face tells me that she had been crying on her way here. "Jasper…what have you done to yourself?" She looks frightened

My eyes cast downward. I look at my hands and arms which are covered in half dried blood, my pants and shirt are torn and filthy. She gets down on her knees, and takes my face in her hands. Fresh, new tears run down her face. "Jasper, please…please say something to me. You're scaring me." She pleads.

I clutch onto her for dear life. Leaning into her, I crush her to me. She cradles my head against her shoulder, and she rocks us back and forth in a small soothing motion, as she sobs openly.

"I need help Rosie. Please help me."

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**AN: Holy drama in this chapter, and a shitload of info, too.**

**Okay, I want to know who is finally ready for Happysper????**


	21. My Saving Grace

**AN: I have a very special thank you this week. My very own special beta contributed to the writing of this chapter. I asked her to do something for me, but she surprised me with the content last weekend and it blew me away! I will mention what part she wrote in my bottom AN.**

**I just wanted to thank her for her amazing work as my beta and this special gift she gave me for this chapter. The luckiest day of my fanfic life was when Steph said she would be my beta, I really don't know what I would do without her.**

**Thank you Cullen818.**

**I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

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"_**Healing in a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity." - Hippocrates**_

**Chapter 21 – My Saving Grace**

How does one find forgiveness?

That question has run through my mind countless times since my first session with Dr. Alistair Brownley. Since my breakdown, three months ago, I have been seeing Rosalie's therapist every other day. Well, now…_my_ therapist as well.

Alistair has been attempting to convey that I haven't come to terms with what has happened in the past, and because of that, I can't deal with shit now. So each appointment we drudge up a little more history, telling him things I have spent years trying to forget; things I never want to remember.

After my first several appointments my nightmares had taken on a new level. Instead of the usual occurrence of watching my little sister die in my arms, and then my version of the reenactment of James' death, other memories are starting to creep in.

Memories of better times, and one would think that is a good thing…but it isn't. It makes the ache in my chest unbearable. It is nothing but a reminder of what I have lost, what I took for granted, and what was cut too short.

Since James' death Rosalie has had to up her visits to the good doctor back to once a week. We purposefully made our appointments on separate days, and we never talk about what is discussed at our visits.

_Except for today. _

I have a feeling today will either be a turning point to my recovery, or it will set me back years.

I sit in the waiting room of Alistair's office, frightened about the outcome of today. My hand shakes, gripping the contents of my fist in an iron clad hold, waiting for Rosalie to show up.

_Rosalie._

_My saving grace._ Who would have fucking thought that would ever be the case? I actually smile, even with anxious adrenaline running rabid through me.

Rosalie and I are both learning to cope with the loss, not only of James, but for Claire and my parents. The process is slow, but I am starting to see some improvement within the last week or so.

We are both starting to smile again, even laugh occasionally.

She has done so much for me. After my "episode" I never went back to the house James and I shared. I stayed with Rosalie while she managed to get the place cleaned up, repaired and sold within two months time. With the money from the sale she bought me a sweet place on Lake Wolverine. It seemed too extravagant for me, but she insisted that I needed the peace that the surrounding environment provided.

She was right. It is truly my sanctuary. I use the deck on the back of the house often, finding solitude in staring up at the stars at night, watching the moonlight set over the water, attempting to discern the best way to get my life back on track.

Everything that was salvageable from the old house is kept in storage, which mainly consisted of James' things. One of the items that Rosalie insisted on putting in my house is the desk that James purchased for me. I keep it in one of the spare rooms that I never go into, but I am glad I have it with me.

I have met a few acquaintances in the small community that I now reside in, and being one of the only single young guys on the block, I have been invited to many barbeques and parties. Rosalie makes me go, and attends with me to ward off all of the unsuspecting and hopeful ladies.

One thing I am not ready for is a relationship…of any kind. I hold everyone at arm's length for their own safety. I don't need any friends…or more, right now.

Alistair reminds me daily that I need to work on myself, and that I am not any good to anybody else in my current condition.

The only exceptions that I make are for my band mates, and especially Sebastian.

About a month after James' died, Marcus had found us a great gig, opening for a band that was growing rapidly in popularity. The show is in three more months, and we have been practicing our asses off since then. Apparently, the drummer and bassist had caught one of our shows almost a year ago and thought we would be perfect for the part. But when Marcus gave us the good news, Sebastian had some bad news.

He was quitting the band.

He had barely shown up to any of our jam sessions previously; one of the only things I found that provided relief from the stresses of the day. Playing made me forget momentarily about the struggle to get through daily life.

But James' death had also hit Sebastian hard. At the time, I had been well into my third week of counseling, just barely learning how to communicate feelings myself. I really only displayed them under extreme duress in front of Alistair, but I felt like I was on the cusp of losing something I needed so badly…and him too. We needed each other, and we needed this gig.

I pulled him aside and found the inner strength to talk about James with him. I kept a forced smile on my face, and I fought to maintain my façade, as I helped him recall funny stories about James' antics. Every instance that was brought up felt like a knife stabbing in my heart. Thankfully, it wasn't all for naught though, because I managed to make Sebastian smile and even laugh once, but ultimately the point that I needed to get across was that I didn't blame him for what happened to James - that nobody did.

And so he stayed, but it had been difficult when he cried in my arms that night, but we had been close ever since, spending more time with each other outside of practice than anyone else.

It had been easy to tell Sebastian those things, because God knows I had heard that shit a hundred times before. The same things fell off of my lips that had been said to me over and over. Things like: "It's not your fault," and "We don't blame you."

I saw the skepticism there in his eyes when I repeated these phrases, and I felt the earth come crashing down around me. This was me.

This was my life, as I knew it.

I had no problem saying the words…and meaning them, but never once was I ever able to believe them, so how could I have expected Sebastian to? So, I made it my goal that night to make sure he understood, and since that time, we have been therapy for each other. Watching Sebastian learn to accept my words is a lesson that I sorely need, but it still begs the question, how does one find forgiveness when everyone that you need to forgive you is dead?

I have no hope of gaining forgiveness from those who I have hurt.

I am brought out of my musings by a gust of wind that hits my face when the door to the office opens; Rosalie's eyes cast about the office before they land on me. I throw her a tentative smile, and she does the same. I can see the nervousness laced in her expression.

_She doesn't know why she is here._

Rosalie and I have grown immensely close to each other in the last few months, and I know that she is worried that this is going to be a setback. When she sits down, I hide my own fear of the same, and grab her hand to give it a light squeeze.

Knowing that I am even able to do that…offer some type of comfort…in my world, is amazing progress.

And that does not go unnoticed by Rosalie. She turns her palm up and squeezes my hand in turn, pumping it a couple of times before she lets it go. She visibly loosens up, from my attentiveness, and it is at that moment that I know that this is going to be a good thing.

"So, how are your new classes? Do you have a lot of homework?" She asks.

I've recently started school over. I decided after the last encounter with Sarah, Peter and Charlotte, that it would probably be best for everyone if I didn't show back up at Eastern University. Besides with James' death coinciding directly with that confrontation, I had skipped so many classes that it would have been impossible for me to catch up anyway. So I enrolled in some off site classes at Michigan State University, mainly sticking with general classes that you need for every degree, until I can figure out what I want to do.

"It isn't that bad. I have a short paper to write on women's roles in the Civil War."

"What?" She chuckles. "Why did you pick that topic?"

"I didn't have a choice. I was assigned it."

"Awesome." She says with another laugh. Her eyes fall again to what I am gripping in my hand, but she doesn't ask.

Silence looms uncomfortably again. I can feel her tension mount as the time for our appointment draws near, so I try to make her feel at ease once again.

I want her to feel like today is going to have a positive conclusion, even if I am not sure of it myself. "I was thinking about stopping at the store tonight and picking up some steaks. Did you want to come over? I bought a new grill…" I say hopefully.

She doesn't look at me, as she appears to be momentarily deep in thought, but a smile grows on her face and she turns to me. "Sure. I can pick up a cheesecake from that bakery down the street from my place."

"Cool." We "celebrated" my twenty-fifth birthday last month at her place. She invited me over for dinner and bought me a cheesecake since neither of us are a big fan of traditional birthday cake. She forced me to have a slice, and it was decadent. Nothing in the world should ever taste that good.

"Trying to fatten me up?" I add, with a smile on my face. I had slowly started gaining some of the weight back that I had lost. I am still under what I had been previous to James' death, but I was beginning to show signs of having a healthy appetite again, food was actually starting to sound good, and thoughts of a steak to celebrate an anticipated victory today sounded perfectly scrumptious. My stomach concurs, as it growls in eagerness.

I start making a mental list of everything I have to get at the store, and which aisles I can find all the ingredients in to get in and out of there quickly. I have always had a strong distaste for grocery shopping, but since the incident with Bella I loathed it with a passion. I never went back to _that_ grocery store again, even though it was the closest to my house. The fear that I could run into Bella again and have a similar encounter was palpable.

Never again did I want to experience such a devastating blow to my already fragile state of worth. Bella had made me feel so utterly unwanted that day. I don't blame her; I actually give her credit for standing up and not backing down. I had just been a fling to help her get through a tough period in her life, and nothing more.

Unfortunately, my way of dealing with that issue is still not talking about it. Bella remains a subject that is off limits…to everyone.

"He's ready to see you now." Heidi speaks from behind the desk. She is the receptionist, and also Alistair's much younger wife.

Rosalie glances one more time at the paper I am holding before she stands. "Okay." Her voice shakes.

^*^

Alistair is sitting behind a large oak desk when we enter the room. His head is bent down, studying some paperwork, but his eyes lift above the rims of his spectacles. A large smile spreads across his features, making him look years younger than he really must be. "Have a seat guys."

We scramble over to the large cushioned sofa and plop down. The area is a casual one; it looks like a typical living room. Alistair comes over, and sits in a chair adjacent to us. "So how are you guys doing today?" He sits back and crosses his leg over the other.

"Okay." Rosalie and I mumble in unison.

"Jasper, did you tell your sister why you wanted her here today?" What I liked about Alistair is that he never minces words, and he isn't into small talk.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I really didn't want to have to talk about it until now, and also, I didn't want her to be worried about it."

"Well, it's very nice that you took her feelings into account. Now, why don't you fill her in, Jasper? Before she explodes." He says, grinning. I glance over at Rosalie, and she does look like she is a nervous wreck.

I turn the envelope around in my hand a few times, and Rosalie catches the handwriting on the front and gasps, but I explain anyway.

"When my mom and dad died there was a letter left behind for me. I…I never opened it." I look at Rosalie, and see the tears swimming in her eyes. "I want to do that today. With you here." I stare hard at her for an immeasurable amount of time, willing her to see that this is a step in the right direction, and one that I wanted to take with her.

"Okay Jasper, why don't you open it now." Alistair whispers, knowing the severity of this step in my recovery.

After almost a year and a half in my possession, I break the seal, and pull out the taupe stationery. I open the folded sheets of the handwritten, three-page letter. I take a shaky breath, and clear my throat.

Rosalie reaches in her purse to grab some tissues, and she holds them in a fist pressed up against her lips as I begin to read the words my mom never got a chance to speak to me out loud.

_Jasper,_

_I don't know if this letter will ever make it into your hands, part of me hopes that it will, so that you will see how much you mean to me, but the other part of me hopes that I will someday get to tell you all of these things in person. Either way, it doesn't matter, as long as you know how I really feel._

_First, it's very important for me to say that I love you and always have, despite what you may think. I know that I could have handled things differently after Claire died, but my only excuse is that I was a mother grieving for the loss of her daughter. I shut down and had an extremely difficult time coming back to reality. I realize now that by acting the way that I did, you misunderstood, and you thought that I somehow blamed you for what happened with your sister. For that, I'm terribly sorry. It was an accident Jasper, a horrible, tragic accident and I never blamed you for her death. This is something that I should have told you years ago. As a mother, I did the worst possible thing I could do. I let my grief and pain engulf me. I mourned the loss of Claire for so long that I neglected you and Rosalie. That's something that I'll never be able to take back. Not only did I lose Claire that night, but I lost you too. I just didn't know it then. I didn't understand how that one night was going to change the whole dynamic of our family._

_Things didn't come easily after her death, and I let this family fall apart. I let you leave us because I thought you needed your space, time to grow. I never thought that we would drift so far apart and not be able to come back from that. I assumed that you would return to us and we would heal, but you were consumed in your own grief, and that pain caused you to make decisions that you might otherwise not have made. None of this was your fault, I was the parent and I should have reached out to you. I hope someday you'll understand my choices and forgive me. _

_After all of these years, I see things so much more clearly now. I recognize my mistakes in all of this, and so does your father. He's a stubborn man, and I think you take after him. You're proud and you don't allow others in so easily. He grieves for the loss of you every day, but I know it's just not possible for him to reach out to you. The same way I know that you can't reach out to us. _

_Today is your birthday, and every year since you've left I take out that old photo album that I put together of your childhood. I take it to the backyard and sit on the porch and reminisce. I wish you could be here when I flip through that album. It starts with the day you were born; I remember that like it was yesterday. You were so tiny and fragile. You were my perfect baby boy, and in so many ways I still see you that way. I flip the pages and cry…your first steps, that little stuffed lamb you carried around the house until you went to nursery school, getting on the bus for kindergarten, losing your two front teeth, little league, that Christmas you got your first guitar, summers at the lake, you and Rose playing in the yard, Easter Egg hunts and trips to the pumpkin patch, welcoming your new baby sister, pushing her on the swing, teaching her to ride a bike, and then there's no more. I realize when it all stopped. I shut down and stopped being the mom that you needed. I wasn't done raising you._

_Of course you left us, what choice did you have? You blamed yourself for what happened and I didn't set you straight. I couldn't then, but I can now. Rosalie keeps me updated on what's going on in your life. She wouldn't want you to know that she keeps tabs on you, but she does it because she misses you. I hope that if we never reconcile, you'll at least be able to do that with your sister. You need one another, and she wants to be a part of your life. She's just as stubborn as you and your father, but don't let that fool you. If you get that opportunity, Jasper, please let her in. She needs you as much as you need her. I know that James has been the only constant in your life and for that I am so grateful. I may not have believed he was the best influence for you, but I know that he continues to be your lifeline. I'm glad that you have him, and I hope that someday, I'll get to thank him for being there for you; for taking care of my son when I should have been. Everyone should have a friend who is that supportive. I know that the two of you have gotten mixed up in some pretty messed up situations. Growing pains, I'm hoping. But know this; none of your choices could ever make me or your father love you any less._

_I'm hoping that if I'm brave enough to mail this letter to you that you'll come back to me. I miss you, and I want to be in your life in any capacity that you'll have me. I don't want to push myself on you, and that's why I haven't reached out sooner. I know the amazing, kind-hearted, loving boy you were, and I'm confident you have grown into an extraordinary man. I don't expect your forgiveness of me and your father to come easily, and if you can't I'll understand, but please find it in your heart to forgive yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for. There are many things in this life to doubt, but your mother's love shouldn't be one of them. I just wanted you to know how much I love you and that there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you. You'll be with me always._

_In the event that we can't reconcile, I want you to find happiness and peace. You've had too many painful years in your short life. No child should have to carry this burden. I don't want that for you. I've failed you in so many ways, but as I parent I'm telling you to live your life with no regrets. I love you with all of my heart._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I fold the letter slowly, and I lift my blurry eyes to the doctor, almost afraid to look at Rosalie. Alistair is taking all of this in…my mother's words, my expression, and how I am handling the situation. "Jasper, what do you think of the letter?"

The room is closing in around me. Everything I ever thought was real is dissolving before my eyes.

"I thought she abandoned me. I thought she didn't want me anymore." I mutter.

"How about now? Do you still feel like that?" Alistair prods.

"No." I whisper fervently. "I thought she had forgotten me…" I trail off, feeling stupid for the assumptions I had formed so long ago.

I finally chance a glimpse over in Rosalie's direction, who had so far remained silent. The crinkled tissues are still held up against her lips, but they are swollen, as are her eyes as she holds in her anguish.

"You checked up on me?"

She looks like a dam ready to burst. She manages to nod her head, but she doesn't dare speak.

"I love you Rosie." The words are surprising and gutted from my chest. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" I ask thickly.

She removes the tissue from her mouth only to let out a strangled sob. She grabs her bag, and runs for the door, fleeing as fast as her shaken form can carry her.

My hands dive into my hair and pull hard. I look at the doc for some clarification on what just happened.

Alistair clenches his hands into fists, and his tone comes out with emotion. "_When are you going to understand?_ The only forgiveness you have yet to receive is your own. Only you, yourself, can heal you Jasper. Find forgiveness in yourself and you will be free from these demons you carry."

I growl in frustration. It seems an impossible task. Can I do that?

Can I forgive myself?

* * *

**AN: So, if you haven't already guessed, Steph, Cullen818 wrote the letter from Jasper's mom. Please let us know what you thought of her contribution as well as the rest of the chapter. **

**If you be extra sweet I just might skip over some crap so we can see Bella in the next chapter…**


	22. With Perfect Clarity

**AN: HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all you mothers out there.**

**Ok, so I want every one of you that have stuck with this story from the beginning to stop right now and give yourselves a big pat on the back. YOU MADE IT!!**

**Thanks so much for sticking around, and seeing Jasper through this rough time. **

**Apparently, Ffn decided to delete some of the punctuation in fics. The series of punctuation that I used in the past to separate scenes was deleted due to this update, so I just wanted to let everyone know to bear with me while I correct the previous chapters. It will take some time.**

**Thanks to Cullen818 for putting up with all my shit. I couldn't get this to her in time, so it is being posted unbeta'd. **

**I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. This story is intended for mature audiences only.**

* * *

"_**You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, even months analyzing a situation, trying to put pieces together, justifying what could've, would've and should've happened. Or you can put the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on." - Anonymous**_

**Chapter 22 – With Perfect Clarity**

"Ow, Rose." I say irritably, rubbing the area she just poked with her blood red fingernail. "What the hell is your problem? You know I just got some work done on that."

"I didn't believe you." She says dismissively.

"What? The bandage that you can see through my t-shirt didn't clue you in?"

The smile she is failing to hide finally reveals itself. When she realizes that I notice, her grin illuminates her face, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Can I see it?"

"Yeah…after dinner I have to put some ointment on it."

About five years ago, James and I had gotten tattoos after a night of heavy partying. I woke up with a hangover and a bandage over my right pectoral.

If I had a reason, at the time, for getting a Tribal Winder Dragon, than the meaning was lost on me the next morning, and I was never able to regain the knowledge of my decision making thereafter. That morning, I had questioned James on if he knew why I had picked this particular design; he just laughed and pulled the bandage off his own arm. "I don't even know what the fuck this is!" He had said, pointing to the symbol on his bicep. We both laughed our asses off, and after searching the internet we found out that James had unwittingly picked a Tribal Phoenix.

We both liked our tattoos, but yesterday I supplemented it. I added an eagle, wings spread, swooping down over the dragon, claws extended ready to take the mythical beast within its grasp.

The only color in the ink was the eagle's eyes. A sharp, furious hazel. The color of James' eyes, and a constant reminder of why I am still alive.

I pick up another slice of pizza from the box sitting in between Rosalie and me on the couch. I stare at the television with no intention of watching what Rosalie put on. _Dancing With the Stars?_ Is she just trying to annoy me?

My mind travels through the mundane. What homework has to be done, repairing the broken faucet in the spare bathroom, sewing up my favorite pair of jeans that had a hole in them from the last time I tried to fix the faucet in the spare bathroom…

Goddamn, my life is fucking boring.

At least I have practice, and that, we have been doing furiously the last couple of weeks. The big gig that Marcus had set up for us is coming up next week, and we were all well aware of it. We rehearsed at least four nights a week, and heavy into the night.

This performance is bittersweet, because it is the last time that _Assumed Dead_ would be performing on stage. Everyone else has families and lives now, and I am a full-time student, dedicated to my education. It just isn't feasible to keep up the band.

After seeing Dr. Brownley for months helped me to finally figure out what I want to do with my life.

I wanted…no, I think I needed to help kids like me…like James. If I could assist children and teens in need, helping them to overcome issues plaguing them, and leading them to live normal, healthy, stable lives then I would feel like my life was worth living. I believe all that I have been through in my life gives me an advantage into the mindset of these kids, because I can relate to what they are enduring.

"Now, why can't I find a guy like this Maksim?" Rosalie whines.

I focus on the TV for a split second to check out the guy she is referring to. "He looks like a total meathead, Rose."

She shrugs, continuing to watch him prance around the stage. "I like muscles."

I hear a whoosh from the other side of the sofa, and I turn my head to see that it was Rosalie releasing a gush of air, as Bruiser jumped on her lap. "Speaking of overdeveloped bodies…are you feeding this cat steroids?" She lifts him up by his front legs, and inspects his undercarriage. "He looks like he has doubled in weight since you brought him home."

I reach over, and grab him from Rosalie. I rub my stubbled chin on the top of his head, until he emits a loud purring sound, and then set him on the floor. "He's healthy now. You were starving the poor thing."

"No. It's called a regimen, Jazz. He isn't supposed to eat whenever he wants."

"Whatever Rose." I say bending down, and giving the cat a huge piece of bacon from the top of my pizza.

She huffs, but lets the subject drop.

"Y'wanna go see a movie this weekend?" She asks without looking away from the TV.

"No way, not after that last pathetic chick flick you made me go see." _Remember When_ – God, I just wanted to _forget_. I shiver at the thought of sitting through that film again. "Damn, Rose, you need to find a boyfriend, so he can suffer through that shit with you."

"That reminds me…how did the date with Heidi go?" _Is that what her name was?_

Alistair told me that starting any kind of relationship in my current state would be futile, as I am just not ready to handle any kind of relationship while I am still in the process of mending myself, but he did say it would be healthy for me to get back out there, and go on a few dates to keep up my social skills with the opposite gender. Sex was not permitted – his rule and mine.

My mistake was relaying this information to Rosalie. She took it upon herself to set me up with a couple of her work colleagues that she deemed "friends", just for a casual dinner…nothing fancy, and no threat of commitment.

The first one, well, for some reason…she was scared of me. She flinched whenever I picked up my water glass, and stammered out apologies at everything we happened to have different opinions on. When I asked her about her reactions to me, she admitted that Rosalie ruled the small real estate office with an iron fist.

"_But she isn't the boss, is she?" I had asked._

"_Umm…no, she's not." She said with shy tentativeness._

This caused me to burst out in laughter, and the girl to cower in her chair. My laughter abruptly stopped, and I ate the rest of my meal in record time.

The second girl…um, Heidi, she just outright loathed me from the beginning. She looked at me with pure hatred throughout the course of the meal. She was defensive and spiteful at every turn. Strangely, however, she still wanted me to come to her house afterward. I cringe at that idea of what viciousness she had planned for me there.

"Horrible. I am not going out with any of your so called "friends" again." I turn my body sideways, and face her. "You do realize they despise you don't you? The only reason they went out with me is to take their hatred of you out on me."

Rosalie is not offended by the accusation, she actually giggle-snorted at the thought of her co-workers harassing me in her stead. She kicks my leg playfully, and covers her nose and mouth to snuff out the offending noise coming from her. "Shut up. They adore me."

"Delusional Rosalie is so unbecoming." I say, rolling my eyes. Now she kicks me in earnest, but the smile is still in place.

"Well, not everyone can be a "Bella"." She says slyly. I give her a warning look. Rosalie brings up Bella's name once in a while to try and coax details out of our, all too short, liaison.

When she sees no words are forthcoming, she sighs heavily. "C'mon Jazz, give me something on her. Anything…"

What can I tell Rosalie about Bella?

The thought of Bella brings forward a wealth of emotions and memories. Some I can recall vividly while others are beginning to fade. My sight goes unfocused, and I see nothing but pictures of Bella in my mind; talking animatedly, laughing, smiling, swaying to the beat of the music on her iPod, her smoldering eyes as she lies underneath me, meeting me thrust for burning thrust…those are the memories that are slowly diminishing. The things that really stand out in my mind whenever I think of Bella are the emotions - the desperate need, the aching loneliness, the unrequited desire, the unspoken words and the pained loss.

What of this can I possibly divulge to my sister? I weigh my words heavily. "Bella…was special. There was no pretense with her. What you see is what you got. I think she really…cared about me…in a way." I let out a small laugh, as a cover-up to the clogging in my throat. "She brought me out of my funk. She made me want things again." My eyes shut in reverie, as feelings wash over me, full of want, desire, and need. "I wanted her, but she couldn't want me that way." I shake my head. "I wanted her for always, she just wanted me for a time. I wanted her body, heart and soul." I open my eyes, as leftover sadness consumes me. "She just wanted my body, but I don't blame her…I owe her…a lot." I look down at my hands, not wanting Rosalie to see how I was still impacted by her.

Rosalie is silent for a moment, and I guess the conversation is over. "How do you know that she didn't have the same feelings for you? Did she tell you flat out?"

I didn't want to, but I thought it would be good therapy, so I went through the whole horror scene when I saw Bella at the grocery store, from the dreadful beginning to the explosive ending.

"So, you pretty much told her it was one-sided and she agreed with you?" Rosalie asks in summary.

"Yep."

She looks perplexed. "…and…and you were…saying that it was one-sided…umm, _for you_?" She forms the last words into a question, rather than a statement.

Now I am getting confused. "Well, yeah." I say irritably. _How else could I have said it?_

Rose is contemplative, staring at the television through unseeing eyes. Her head turns slightly in my direction and her mouth opens, but she snaps it shut and turns back to the television. "What Rose? You've never had a problem saying what's on your mind before. Spit it out."

"Well, sorry, but that whole thing was just kinda vague. Are you sure you were both talking about the same thing?"

"Of course, we were Rose." I say condescendingly, and my tone effectively ends the conversation.

_Weren't we?_ I mean, my mind was most definitely muddled at the time. Is there any way she could have misconstrued what I was trying to say? I know my words and thoughts were scattered, but she couldn't have thought I meant _her feelings_ _for me_ are one-sided – that is just absurd.

I shudder.

I didn't want to think about the possibilities.

XXXXX

I approach James' grave with a heavy heart. I notice right away that Rosalie had installed a beautiful wooden bench under the tree where he lies, with potted plants on each side. The last time I was here I complained about a sore ass. Rosalie is doing her damnest to take care of me, and she overdoes it most of the time…but at this very moment I am extremely grateful that I won't be subjected to sitting on the hard ground again. She must have had Mr. Hunter dish out a pretty penny not only for the bench, but for them to allow it to be erected here.

The gig is tomorrow, and I just thought I would spend some time with James before the show. It isn't a pleasant experience – coming here.

Some days are harder than others, but I have learned slowly to cope with my losses. As for forgiving myself…well, I've improved, I guess.

My goal has been to stop living in the past and realize I still have a life to live; a life still full of possibilities and promise. James afforded me that, and the very least I could is to live up to my full potential.

I stare at the headstone, still wondering how it all came down to this.

Embry Call didn't have a trial. He was quietly transferred to a high security institution, upstate, to serve out his ten year sentence. He got away with murder. I haven't spoken to James' dad since the reading of the will and I was glad for it.

How James' dad could allow that…let alone, actually fucking arranging it to happen that way, is beyond me, and I am not sure I will ever forgive him for how heartless and nonchalant he has been about his son's death. It makes me sick to my stomach how James always strived for his father's attention and acceptance. He didn't deserve James, and James had been better off without him in his life.

In any case, I will be keeping tabs on that sick fucker, Embry, and I'll know exactly when he gets out. I never set the record straight, so Embry thinks he had killed his intended target. I wonder what would happen if he found out that he didn't. Would he come after me when he was released? It's not the first time that this come into my head, so when, and if, he does come around I will make damn sure that I am prepared for it.

I look at the cold ground and notice cigarette butts haphazardly scattered about. I empty out my Starbucks cup and bend down to pick them up. As I gather all the stubs I notice that they are Salem 100's. The only person I know that smokes that specific brand is Jessica. She had quit after we all started hooking, since neither James or I smoked, but I saw her a few weeks ago, and I noticed that she had picked back up the bad habit.

That isn't the only nasty habit that she resumed. She had not only gone back to whoring, but it appears as though she has started taking drugs as well. I had tried to talk to her, but she wanted nothing to do with me. I don't know what she is on, but she was barely lucid when I approached her. I took in her wide, haunted eyes, and her gaunt features. She looked like she hadn't slept, or had a good meal in ages. I begged her to talk to me, but when she finally opened her mouth all she did was scream as loud as she could. She wouldn't stop. I tried to talk over her shrieking, I even grabbed her and started to shake her, but eventually pedestrians were starting to gather around, so I gave up…for the time being, but I went back again and again, for weeks, trying to locate her, but she wasn't there.

Obviously, she is still around since I am still picking up the evidence strewn about the gravesite. I won't completely give in, when I see her, I will try again. I will attempt to make her understand that, like me, her life is not over, and she has to learn to deal with the pain and loss, through healthier ways, just like I still have to. It is not a one step, quick fix, process. I have to remind myself of that day in and day out.

I bend down to pick up a butt by the headstone, sitting back on my feet; I shut my eyes, and run my hand over the etched marble.

"I wish you were going to be there tomorrow. This show is for you."

XXXXX

I can hear the crowd roaring as the headliners take the stage. We had met with them before the show began and even though they were more than a few years younger than us we got along great. We had a mutual respect for each other's talents, and I even gave the guy a few tips on some new melodies that I discovered during our many hours of practice. I wouldn't need them, since the only playing I will be doing will be for no one other than me, and maybe a few close others.

We sit nervously in one of the back rooms, waiting for them to finish their set, and for ours to begin. The opening band had gone out on stage when there was barely anyone in attendance, and after they finished with their allotted three songs the huge bar was filled to capacity.

"I think I am going to throw up." Garrett says holding his stomach.

Pauline, Sebastian's wife, stops her pacing, and glares at him. "Suck it up." She gives Sebastian an anxious smile, and continues her pacing.

Rosalie sits on an amp, swinging her feet back and forth in a relaxed manner. "You guys have been practicing non-stop the last week. Don't worry. This is going to be fucking awesome!"

Garrett and Sebastian shoot her glares, and she shrugs innocently before she turns a smirk and wink at me. I smile back at her hesitantly.

_Oh boy. What did we get ourselves into?_

"What did you get us into Marcus?" Garrett says frantically, pulling at the tips of his chestnut hair. I think it's pretty funny that he had said exactly what I had been thinking, so I start to laugh, and when Garrett stares at me in confusion, I can only laugh harder, and I can't seem to stop myself.

"Fuck. You picked this exact moment to go crazy??" Marcus asks, only half joking. I take a glimpse around to see everyone in the room looking at me.

"No, I am not going crazy…not yet, anyway." I say with the remnants of laughter in my voice.

And that is when it hits me. "We are going to be just fine guys." I look at Rosalie. "We are going to be just fine."

She smiles, and jumps up from the amp. "I am going to scope out the crowd, squeeze myself up into the front row, and wait for the real act to start." She pulls me into a big hug. "Don't be nervous. You're going to be great." She strolls out with Pauline, Samantha, who is Marcus' wife, and Rachelle, who is Garrett's girlfriend.

The door quietly closes, as the girls exit. "Well, we will have at least four people cheering for us." Garrett laments.

"Shut. Up. Dude. Before I beat the shit out of you." Marcus growls out.

Again, someone in the room is reading my mind. I _almost_ started laughing again.

Almost.

XXXXX

The first song goes off without a hitch, the crowd is cheering loudly, enjoying our show. The headliners have even taken to the side of the stage, behind the small curtain, to watch the performance. They also join in the applause, which pumps us all up.

All of us have the energy we had years ago, but we slow it down for the next song. Within seconds of the first one being done, I receive the inconspicuous cue from Marcus to begin the next.

I search the front row for Rosalie, and as my eyes scan the first few rows I see brown, long hair…and wide brown eyes…and perfect ruby red lips, but my eyes move pass that until I find Rosalie swaying to the chords of my instrument. The steel of the strings under my fingertips reverberate, releasing a soft, sweet harmony.

But something in my expression has Rosalie, unmoving, staring at me intently. It takes a second to register the shock of what I had spotted before I found Rosalie. A swift and potent shot of adrenaline courses through me, and my eyes drift back to the spot…but she is no longer there.

_Bella._

The empty hole in the crowd where I thought I had seen her had quickly filled with eager patrons, edging closer to the stage for a better view.

_It wasn't her. It couldn't have been. _

It was an illusion, a trick of the mind.

It was a hallucination, a trick of a mind hanging loosely on the edge of sanity; dangling by a thin thread of will and perseverance; a determination built by desire and hope not to succumb to the ill-fated.

I will win. I am not a prisoner of my own torturous circumstances; I am not addicted to misery; I am not obsessed with loath.

_I loved_.

I love my sister, I love my band mates, I love Claire, and my mom and dad, I love James, and most importantly I love myself.

I am not completely free, I regret choices that I had made, but forgiveness is on its way. I am not sure exactly when that will happen, but I can _feel_ it.

My epiphany couldn't have come at a better time.

I am happy.

Happy with my life the way it is. It isn't perfect, and in a lot of situations it isn't even ideal, but I still feel like smiling…and so I do.

With eyes shut, and a smile on my face, I yield to the tune, letting the melody vibrate into my soul.

Too soon our set is over, and we walk of the stage in a flurry of vigor. I celebrate more than one victory in that small room, with my favorite people.

What is strange is that I always seem to have an epiphany after I think of, or see Bella. She had once called me an angel, but it is really her that is the angel. Her face always seems to lead me on the right path, willing me to take chances to become a better person.

"What can I help you with little lady?" Marcus says from behind me.

I am bent over my guitar case, storing my instrument, but I glance quickly up to Samantha, who just snorts at Marcus' suggestive words. Apparently, by the roll of her eyes, he isn't talking to her. I smile slightly. If Marcus is trying to make her jealous it wasn't going to work. Those two have a rare love, and bond, that leads to an unfathomable amount of trust and dedication to each other.

"I…I…came…by to s-s-say hi to friend."

That voice.

The sweet, sexy, seductive voice that I never thought I would hear again. _She is here._

She is here, in this room. We didn't run into each other. She searched me out. I straighten and turn slowly and stiffly. My body tenses in defense of a situation that it is wholly unprepared to deal with.

"Hi, Jazz." And just that fucking fast, Rosalie is in between us. Obviously, she had recognized the name that I had used in one of my past choices of employment. What she didn't understand is that I only used that name in front of one client.

"_Jasper_," Rosalie emphasizes, "is busy at the moment. Who the fuck are you?" _Oh, shit. _Rosalie in protection mode is not one to be fucked with.

"Move away, Rosalie." I say, trying to lessen the charged atmosphere. Everyone around us is frozen in place, silent and wary.

Instead of moving away, Rosalie steps in closer until she stands right in Bella's face, and I have to give a lot of credit to Bella, she doesn't back down, but remains in place. This seems to make Rosalie madder and before I can react Rosalie's venomous mouth spews her hateful message. "Listen, you little fucking whore chaser. He doesn't do that anymore. So get lost before I knock all the teeth out of your scummy little head."

Bella lets out a small gasp and backs away.

Finally I find my fucking voice, and it comes out in a roar. "Rosie! STOP!"

She finally moves somewhere behind me, but I don't know exactly where, and at this moment, I couldn't have cared less. Bella smiles tentatively, and that is all I can see.

Now, after months of therapy, learning how to live and love. I am not looking at her through my old eyes. The ones that were weary with life, the ones that couldn't see the light amid all the darkness surrounding me.

Now, finding some peace in life, I can see her with real clarity. Maybe she isn't that special, maybe she had just stood out in my dreary, black and white world because she had something as simple as color, which happens to be rich in my life now. Maybe I didn't really love her.

Maybe I never did.

But looking at her now, her magnificence is still ever present. I see a beauty that is unmatched, a smile that makes my heart sing, her eyes that make me want to tell her all of my secrets, including me shamelessly confessing my undying love for her.

_No. _

I am not ready for that. Finding a relationship isn't in the plan yet, especially one that would be as all consuming as Bella. Even if she wanted one…I couldn't give it to her.

She looks resigned, and I realize I haven't spoken directly to her. I want to, but I can't. What can I say? "Thanks for coming." "It's nice to see you." "You look great."

I know I am being rude, but I can't trust my voice to speak simple words and phrases.

"I just came by to tell you that I heard your band tonight and I think you guys are really awesome. My friends and I…well, we really enjoyed it." Her eyes shut, and a small sigh escapes her gorgeous lips. "Well, I won't keep you." She whispers.

My heart hurt as I see her eyes shut with regret for coming back here, and the desire to shoot out the door. That's what this _clarity_ I have found bestows on me. I have the ability to see her agony clearly, and it is brutal justice, because I just want to reach out and touch her face, I just wanted to reassure her…console her. Give her the age-old cliché, and tell her that it's not her, it's me.

But I can't even speak for fear that all of my feelings will show through. She is with friends, probably on a date, or with that same guy, if he is lucky enough.

As expected, she finally gives up and leaves me…again, and watching her walk out that door opens old wounds.

You could hear a pin drop in that room.

"Well, now that we've disposed of that piece of trash…" Rosalie's voice trails, as I turn on her and she sees my expression. "Jasper! What's wrong?" She jumps off the amplifier, and tries to calm me, but I feel like I am hyperventilating. Awareness dawns on Rosalie's face. "Oh my God. Is that her? Is that _Bella_?" Her voice groans out Bella's name.

Hearing her name out loud severs any remaining grip I have on my emotions. I kick one of the smaller amps and it slides across the floor and crashes into the wall. Marcus and Garrett each grip one of my arms, holding me, so that I can't cause any more damage.

"Calm down, man. It's all good." Garrett says lamely.

_And they are right._

It is all good.

I shake my head. "You're right. It's cool. I'm good. This was good; I think I needed this to happen." Marcus looks at Garrett, and it appears like they believe me, because they both let me go simultaneously.

I sit down in one of the chairs, and put my head in my hands.

_Why do I let her do this to me?_

Every time I see her I go a little crazy. I have to tell her to stop seeking me out. I need to tell her to avoid me in the future, that there is nothing left to say to each other. I sit there and mull over that decision, and decide quickly enough that seeking out Bella to tell her to stay the fuck away from me isn't the greatest idea I ever had.

I look up and don't see Rosalie. I hadn't even realized that she had left the room. "Where is Rose?"

"I don't know. She left right after your little temper tantrum." Marcus says with a large dose of amusement, the tension had all but disappeared as the group fell back into conversing about the success of the set. I gave him a sarcastic look, and then the horrific thought hit me…oh, god, what if she went after Bella?

I quickly leave the room and run down the small hall only to run into my very own heartfail. If I had any brains whatsoever I would turn around and flee, but my intelligence always runs low around Bella. "What are you doing here?" She turns around, and her wide eyes try to suck me in. I have to get the hell out of her, so I grab and shake her lightly. "Answer me." I seethe.

_Goddammit. Say something. _

_Tell me why you are hell bent on destroying my life._

Her mouth opens, ready to enlighten me, but nothing comes out. I watch as her luscious lips reveal her soft, velvety tongue…

FUCK my FUCKING life.

_Why can't I just let her go, and walk away?_

_Because I love her._

_I can't love her._ I push her away, and beg for her to believe my desperate lie. "I was…I am doing fine Bella." Please take the bait, and do the deed for me. I wait for her acquiesce, as she has supplied so many times in the past.

But she doesn't accommodate. "No. No you're not." She challenges me. Plump tears fall from her eyes, but she smiles happily. Fucking smiles.

_She does want me._ Any wall that I may have been building up in defense of her magnetism has just crumbled around me.

I will find out, one way or another, _right now_.

There will be no clues to translate, no codes to decipher, no fucking half-truisms to interpret.

The truth will be spelled out, pronounced and defined.

There is only one more thing holding me back.

With my self-perseveration lying in shreds haplessly around me, I tug her to me. "Are they guys or girls?"

She looks confused, and I give up on all ambiguity. "Your friends…are they guys or girls?"

I don't know what point exactly the answer didn't matter anymore, but I decided it had been way too long since I had tasted those lips. "Fuck it. It doesn't matter Bella…it doesn't fucking matter." When I touch her mouth with mine, I search for resistance. When I feel only the sweet surrender, as her supple lips mold to mine, urgently seeking the meaning to all of this, I supply the answer with a heartfelt moan. I circle my arms tight around her small frame, as our tongues and bodies twist with pent up need. Her hands weave into my hair tugging on it roughly, as she presses her mouth harder so her tongue could delve further, reacquainting herself with the deeper recesses of my mouth.

Her hands soften their grip in my hair and our kiss slows down into an arousing, sensual kiss. I pull away and stare into her eyes. I cup her cheeks and take her top lip in my mouth, and with gentle suction I relish Bella's flavor. I repeat the process with her bottom lip.

We gaze at each other, a light is dancing in her eyes now, and I know that my eyes reflect the same, because she is with me…in my arms…where I want her to be. Where she _wants_ to be.

She loses her smile, but her eyes are still warm and encouraging. She looks at me seriously. "Girls, Jasper. I am with girls."

_I love you Bella._

It's too soon for the words, but she will hear them when we are both ready. So instead of declaring my love for her, I bury my head in her shoulder. "I missed you." I whisper fervently.

"Not as much as I have missed you." She responds.

Even though, I can feel it in all of her actions, hearing those words sets a fiery blaze in me. I seek out her lips and pour all of my emotions into that kiss. I reach down and grab the backs of her thighs, she understands, and complies, by wrapping her sexy legs around me.

"Bella?" Bella and I break our kiss, and both look toward the unwanted interruption.

_This must be one of Bella's friends._

"Well, who's this?" She says seductively.

_Well, maybe she isn't._

"He's my boyfriend." Bella says, staking her claim to her flirtatious friend.

_Boyfriend? _I guess that would mean that Bella is my girlfriend?

_My girlfriend?_

I study her expression to make sure she isn't joking because her being my girlfriend sounds in-fucking-credible. The look she gives me is one of complete honesty, and hope. God, I love clarity.

There are no words to express my gratitude for her bravado. Taking a chance, when I couldn't, and giving us this opportunity to be together. So I hug her to me tightly.

"I think you have had way too much to drink my friend." Her friend says. I breathe in Bella's unique scent and exhale on a chuckle at her friends comment.

Little does her friend know what Bella and I have actually been through.

I give Bella a chaste kiss, before she pulls away to smile into my eyes.

Her eyebrows raise and she has a mischievous glint in her chocolate orbs. "So, I had the pleasure of having a little chat with your _sister_."

Mental note: Buy something very expensive for my sister.

* * *

**AN: I know this was a lot of people's fav chapter in **_**Finding Relief**_**, so I hope I did it justice in Jasper's POV. Let me know what you thought and wish me luck in Vegas! Thanks!**


	23. Obstinate Over Abstinence

**AN: Thanks everyone for hanging in there and being patient. I have had a lot of stories swirling around in my head the past month, so it is been really hard to sit down and focus on any one of them at a time. Yes, one of them is a Jas/Bella fic but I won't be starting a new one before this one is done.**

**I must say that it is very difficult to mirror Bella's POV. Bella's fic had its share of angst, but it was lighthearted and fun, when Jasper's POV has been wrought with turmoil and moodiness. I wasn't planning on doing this chapter in JPOV but a few girls encouraged me too – you know who you are – my Florida chickies. I worked really hard to hopefully make his version better than Bella's. I hope you agree.**

**With that being said…**

**I love Cullen818. Thanks Steph, for catching all of my stupidity. **

**I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. This story is intended for mature audiences only.**

* * *

"_**Abstainer: A weak man who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure." - Ambrose Bierce**_

**Chapter 23- Obstinate Over Abstinence **

"You wanna…mmm…" If I can manage to pull my tongue out of her savory mouth for even a brief second, I could let her finish her question…but she tastes so fucking good. I can't get enough, and I won't let her leave this time until she knows it. "mmm…Jasper…go somewhere…quieter." She says between kisses.

That stops me dead in my tracks.

_Did she want to have sex? Was she going to try and pay me?_

And as fast as the thought enters my mind I squash it, but I can't will my body to stop retaliating from my brief thought, and I reluctantly squirm out of her embrace.

I am so sick of just not knowing what the hell is going on between us. It appears that she wants more, and now, I am almost sure of it, but I am not taking any chances with my _intuition_. It had never helped me with Bella in the past.

"I…I don't…do…" I want to say that I don't do that anymore, but my throat closes up in pain, just thinking a granule that she may be here just to sleep with me again.

I am guessing by the vehement way that I am shaking my head in denial, or the hurt I am most likely portraying in my eyes that she somehow comprehends what my meaningless mumblings meant, because her eye brows shoot up, and her eyes widen. She covers her mouth, in horror, but quickly regains her senses, and lunges forward, grabbing my biceps, in a desperate motion. "Noooo, Jazz. Noooo." Her eyes plead with me to believe her.

My panic subsides, and my comfort level rises, since it seems like we are finally communicating… or at least trying to. Astonishingly, it actually seems like we may finally be on the same page here. "I'm sorry, I just thought…"

Her eyes still wide and scared that I plan to flee, she holds me in a death grip. "Talk. Just talk."

God, we are both pieces of work. Neither one of us can get a full sentence out, but we appear to understand each other perfectly.

I have to laugh, and she smiles as she watches me give into my untimely humor.

_Fuck_. How could I have thought that is what she wanted, when all her body language told me that she wanted more? The answer is simple. Old wounds and insecurities. The band aids are off, but the wounds are still fresh, lying precariously beneath a well formed scab that can easily ooze infectious pain when dug off at the right angle.

She cradles my cheeks in her palms. "I just want to be with you. I just want to be near you. I just want to learn more about you."

My lips meet hers in another scorching kiss. My tongue explores teeth, gums, and flesh. No part of her mouth is untouched. I am amazed at how surreal this is, but I don't get to think about that for too long.

"Hey, Jas…you coming?"

I groan against Bella's lips, recognizing Marcus' voice behind me, reminding me that this night isn't just about Bella and me.

I pull away, and turn to look at Marcus who has a couple large bottles of what appears to be champagne in his hands, and I know that I can't just take off with Bella…and I don't want to. There is a celebration taking place. This was our final performance and I can't ditch everyone when we are celebrating our final show.

"I'll be there in a second," I say. I look back at Bella, who looks just as disappointed as I feel, but she just doesn't understand what it took for us all to get here tonight, and what the success of the set meant to all of us.

I want to ask her to stay, but I don't want her to feel obligated. It's hard to hang with a bunch of strangers, especially since they will all be flat drunk in about an hour. I also didn't want Rosalie breathing fire down Bella's neck the whole night…but I can't seem to let her go. So I ask against my better judgment, the selfish side of me winning the battle effortlessly. "This night was pretty important to all of us, so it would be really wrong of me to bolt. Do you want to stay with us?" I can't help but cringe over the question.

"Welllll…" She drawls out, as she remains thoughtful for a second. "I would love to but…"

And there it is…the "but".

"I would need a ride home. Would you mind taking me home?" My heart swells in my chest. I have to stop assuming… "Please," she whispers.

_Oh. My. Fucking. God._

I push her back into the wall, and enclose her in a small cage, as I brace my hands on either side of her head. "Of course, I will drive you home Bella." I lean in, and place a small whisper of a kiss on her lips. She has already put herself out there so many times tonight, over and over again she stood and fought for us and a heavy dose of respect and appreciation surge through me as I look at her upturned, questioning face. "You are my girlfriend after all."

She gives me a sly smile, and wraps her arms around my neck. "Am I?"

My arms drop and snake around her waist. I pick her up so that her gorgeous, lithe body is mashed against mine, making me hard instantaneously. I want to rub her sinuously along my frame, but I don't want to give her the wrong idea. I don't want sex tonight, and I don't want her to get the impression that I do.

I want to take this slow. I need to know that she wants more from me than what was so easily procured in the past.

For once, I need to have faith that she will wait, wanting the same thing as I do.

"You better be. Do you need me to mark you, so there will be no mistaking it in the future?" I take the skin, just below her ear, between my teeth and gnaw lightly, adding a growl for better effect. She giggles, and it is the most amazing sound I have ever heard.

"Let me go tell my friends that they can leave without me. I'll be right back." She hesitates, not wanting to leave, and I hold on just a little too long, not wanting her to go, but eventually we both give in and move away.

"I'll be right here waiting for you darlin'."

She blushes prettily, and scampers off. I am glad for the moment of peace that I will have before she comes back and I have to take her to the back room to face the clan.

_Hoooooly Shit!_ I run my hands through my hair and clasp my fingers on the back of my neck; a permanent smile on my face. I can't believe she is here with me. I never imagined that I could see her here. That she would fight for us. I wanted to fucking jump up and down, and take my excitement out in a physical way.

What an amazing woman…and she is mine…for the moment.

Jesus, I don't even want to start making a list of the many ways that I can screw this up. I am unsure of if I am ready to handle a relationship of this magnitude or not, but I know I have to give it a try.

Forgiving myself…or whatever shit, Dr. Brownley is talking about can take years. I can't wait that long to start having a life.

Right now, my life is as good as it is going to get. I surround myself with Rosalie and friends. I go to school full time, and I keep out of trouble. The only thing missing from my life is Bella, and now that I have her I am not going to let the opportunity pass because I haven't found the recipe for absolution.

"Hey you," Rosalie says.

I don't hesitate to turn around and swoop her up in an embrace. "Whatever you said….Rosie, thank you. Thank you so fucking much," I whisper fervently.

"You better put me down. I think your Bella is going to get jealous." She sing-songs.

"What?" I ask incredulously.

"I really think that she thought I was your girlfriend."

"Eww," I say disgustedly. Rosie punches me in the arm playfully, but it still kinda hurts because she is a brute and all.

"Seriously, you should of seen the expression on her face when I said you were my brother," she snorts.

We let comfortable fill the atmosphere, as I bask in the events of the evening.

"Rosie…tell me I am not going to fuck this up," I beg.

She sighs. "Jazz, I can't tell you that." She takes in my crushed expression, and is quick to placate me. "But I can tell you this; you are ready for this…_ready for her_."

"But Alistair said…"

"Fuck Alistair. He has helped you a lot, but you need more than just him now. You need someone that will love you, and cherish you, like only Bella can. She will show you that you are worth more than you give yourself credit for. If she is the one, don't let her go."

"I love you Rosie." The words trip from my lips without effort. I no longer have any problem showing my brotherly affection toward her. After I lost James, she had pulled me from the deepest pits of hell, and I owe her eternally for that. Without her, I don't even want to think about where I would be. Although, it isn't hard to imagine. I would be dead.

I still have Rosie in my arms when Bella turns the corner and freezes in her spot. Even though it had appeared that Rosalie and she had a semi-friendly and productive conversation Bella looks warily at her.

Rosalie chuckles. She disengages her arms from around me, and saunters up to Bella, like a beast stalking its prey. She gets up in Bella's face and issues a quiet but very potent promise. "If you fuck with my brother I will take pleasure in dismembering your petite little body, throwing the carcass in the abused piece of luggage that I hideaway in my closet for such an occasion, and personally throw it in the middle of Lake Erie."

"Goddammit Rose," I hiss, but she stops me by extending her arm, and holding her palm out, like a crossing guard. The "stop right fucking now" is plainly written in her action, but being the stupid fuck that I am, I open my mouth to defend my girl, but this time it is Bella that glances at me and shakes her head infinitesimally.

Rosalie leans in closer to Bella. "Do you get me, Bella?"

Bella stares into Rosalie's eyes wide with fear and a smidgen of another emotion I would say closely resembling…admiration. She nods once, her only affirmation to Rosalie's threat. They stare at each other, neither one of them backing down.

Finally, Rosalie steps back, and puts her arm around Bella. "Very good. Now, tell me where you bought this lovely handbag, I must have it."

They both walk to the back of the bar where the festivities are taking place, with me following in their wake, shaking my head confounded by their conflicting mannerisms.

We had partied until the wee hours of the morning. The bar owner had asked us to stick around as a house band for a few months while they found a replacement for the group that had just given their notice. We all seemed to cave with little, to no, resistance except Sebastian, but with some gentle prodding from the rest of us he happily agreed to do it.

Yeah, there was a lot to celebrate this night.

XXXXX

I drive Bella to her door. She lives in a nice house, in an upscale neighborhood. I knew that this is the house she shared with her now deceased husband, Edward.

_Would I ever to be able to give her everything he did?_ I didn't lack funds or means. Bella could possibly have all of the material things her heart desired, but am I whole enough to give her the emotional stability required to maintain a healthy relationship?

And that, is the burning question.

Which is just another good reason for my wish for temporary abstinence.

"W-would you like to come in?" She says hopeful. Wide chocolate eyes delve into mine through the darkened interior. I put the car in park, but I don't turn off the engine.

"Bella…I can't." My voice comes out rough, and thick.

"Oh, okay," she says meekly, lowering her head, so I can't see her face.

"Bella…I really like you…a lot. I mean…I want this to be…more…oh, God…" I stammer out. _Fuck_. I am going about this so ineloquently. _Just spit it the fuck out._

As I continue berating myself, I feel her soft hand touch mine. "I want it to be…more too," she hesitates, and then smiles, breathtakingly.

"I have been through a lot since we last saw each other, and before that my life wasn't that great, which led me to the profession in which you found me in. Bella, there is so much to tell you, because you need to know." I look out the windshield, and then back at her. "It wouldn't be fair to you, for me to start anything like…" I wave my hand in between us, errantly. She understands with a nod, waiting for me to continue. "…without you knowing everything, first. It wouldn't be fair to either of us." It is a very real possibility that when I tell her about my past that she won't want to have anything to do with me, and I can't risk going any further than dating, until she knows all of my secrets.

She looks deep in thought for a moment, but she raises her eyes to mine and I can see the sweet acceptance in them. She grasps my hand in both of hers, and leans in to me. "I can wait." She whispers, before her lips ghost over mine in a chaste kiss. "I want to learn everything about you too Jazz. I also, have things to tell you too."

"It may take some time Bella, but I will tell you all you need to know." I push a lock of hair behind her ear, and caress her jaw line.

"I can wait as long as you need me to. I am not going anywhere Jasper."

XXXXX

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I repeat the single word over and over, for the millionth time in two fucking months.

I am such a fucking moron.

I press my hand into my swollen crotch, suppressing a growl, as I arrange my dick so that it doesn't press against the metal teeth of the zipper on my jeans. I don't know what was more idiotic, my little "agreement" that I had wholly instigated, without even having the excuse of duress, with Bella, or going commando anywhere within ten miles of this beautiful girl.

I look over at her and she graces me with a breathtaking smile, and a slow seductive wink.

_Fuck!_

_Stupid. Stupid. I am a stupid motherfucker._

A simple date…that is what this is…well, what is supposed to fucking be…but it never fails to turn into yet another display of my deranged masochistic tendencies, brought on by a mind falling deeper into psychosis with each passing day.

The longer that I hold out on Bella…yeah, it is me holding out –because obviously, my habitual desire to torture myself goes well beyond the familiarly frequent case of blue balls - but the longer I hold out, the dirtier my mind gets.

Last week, when Bella was washing dishes while I "studied" all I could think about was bending her over the counter, and driving my dick in between those supple cheeks, and when she took a mouthful of the steak that I made for her, and some of the juices had dribbled down her chin, I wanted nothing more to throw her on the kitchen table and spread her luscious thighs so I could eat her sweet pussy instead of the uninviting red meat and baked potato that had been sitting in front of me.

I want her so fucking much. I don't know why I still haven't gone there. I've told her everything. She knows everything about my horrid past. I didn't leave out a single detail. I cleaned out the closet, and brought out all of my skeletons, forcing her to see the grim truth of what I had done, and how those experiences shaped my life to be where I am now.

She took it well. Her eyes remained fixed on mine, and still during the most revealing moments her eyes never strayed from mine…even when I wanted her to. I didn't want her to see me looking so vulnerable, but I knew the time had come for me to tell her. She voiced that she is anxious to step up our physical relationship, but I still felt like I needed to give her some time to have everything I told her sink in.

She needs to know what she is getting into, because I am pretty sure that when we finally have sex that I will never, ever be able to let her go.

It's been a month since I have told her, and in turn she told me her story. I learned about Edward's death, and how his parents along with her father made a snap decision not to let her say goodbye to him, and then what happened with Jacob. All of our pasts were laid out, on display. But yet, I haven't made a move, opting to settle for light kisses, and small touches.

It isn't a matter of still needing to figure out my feelings. I love her. There is no doubt in my mind. She is quirky, funny, intelligent, charming, and a little clumsy. She is so endearing, and I just find myself in awe, on a daily basis, that she wants to be with me.

And on the outside…dammit… she is a masterful seductress. Her physique is flawless; she has long shapely legs that lead to a perfect ass, a taut abdomen, and perky breasts that I remember fitting snuggly into my palms. And she knows how to move that body in such tantalizing ways; the gentle sway of her hips, the arch of her slender back…fuck, just begging for me to press her into my mattress, so I can worship every inch of that delectable body for hours, until we are both deliciously sore and spent.

_Thoughts are not helping the hard-on._

I casually roll my hips up off of the seat to make more room in my jeans. I glance at her sitting next to me in the dark theatre.

Who wears a skirt to a fucking movie? A tiny, practically non-existent, goddamn skirt. My senses start reeling and I look away angrily. I can't understand why I can't control my bodily response to her. It seems like every little thing she does lately is fucking meant to drive me insane.

Well, I don't know if she is taking care of her own needs, but I sure am. I don't look forward to waking up in a sticky, wet mess, so I perform the perfunctory act of jacking it every morning in the shower while I scream out Bella's name. It was effective in getting rid of the hard-on, but it did little to assuage the constant ache that I still feel. I know from experience that Bella is a sexual being, and I also am aware that she isn't all together happy with our current situation.

After the movie is over we are walking out to the car. "So what did you think of the film?"

I am walking behind her, and I hear what she says, but it doesn't register because all of my attention is on her rear moving sinuously in that slinky skirt.

"Yeah?" I say absently, my mind still in the gutter, and not at all on what Bella had actually just said.

"Yeah? What kind of answer is that?" She asks testily.

"Sorry," I mumble. She turns around stiffly and walks faster.

It is _almost_ comical how moody we have been lately.

Almost.

XXXXX

I put on some Papa Roach, throw together lasagna for dinner, and sit down to study. I have a test next week that is worth a third of my grade in Forensic Psychology, so I take every spare moment to cram. I look forward to a day that I get my Master's and can start my practice. I'm not going to stop going to school until I have my full Doctorate, but I know I won't have to wait that long to start helping kids.

Thinking of kids like James and me, just waiting for guidance and support is my encouragement and motivation to study harder, and be better.

Another source of motivation just walks through the door.

I am nervous about tonight. Tonight we might take another tenuous step in our relationship, and as always, I am worried that I am going to scare her off. Dr. Brownley doesn't think I am ready to take this next leap, but Rosalie thinks I am, and I choose to believe her.

I can hear her bumbling around in the foyer, and I smile automatically and instantaneously. I feel a contentment like nothing I have ever known when Bella is with me.

Rosalie loves her, too. She doesn't admit it…yet, but she does. They talk on the phone almost every day and go out on days that I have school in the evening. Bella is infiltrating herself in my life in ways that will already be devastating should she decide to bolt.

"Hey angel," she walks into the kitchen, and I about fall over in my chair.

"Hi." Is about all I can manage to say without fear of stuttering like a blundering idiot. Bella is wearing a top that molds to every curve in her body. Her tits are pushed up and out, and her midriff is exposed above a pair of jeans that look like they are painted on.

As she comes closer to place a kiss on my forehead, I can see a clear outline of her succulent nipples through her top.

_Holy fuck._

"Something smells really good." She walks over to the stove and peers through the oven window, completely oblivious to what she is doing to me.

I practically break my glasses as I remove them to scrub my face in keen sexual frustration. My ever-present and unwelcomed boner is poking against the fly of my jeans.

"Yeah, I made lasagna." I say warily, completely sick and tired of having to remember the reasons why I still feel the need to torture us by abstaining.

"Sweet. You want me to make the salad while you study?" She asks, completely innocent, while I can't seem to focus on anything. _Study?_ Yeah. I'm done. My brain has officially shut down for the night. My libido taking night duty in its stead.

But I am supposed to be studying, so I pretend to read, as I once again try to control my impulses to jump her. "Sure."

I am trying to concentrate on shoving my dirty thoughts aside to have a decent conversation with my woman, but a fire rages in me. I watch, hypnotized by the subtle swaying of her hips, and am mesmerized by her quiet voice singing the words to Papa Roach's _Carry Me_.

Does she know what she does to me? Does she know how much I care about her? How much I want to see her standing there every fucking day? Before I shout out my very possessive thoughts, and scare the living daylights out of her, I get up and feel safe enough in voicing my first question.

I wrap my arms around her tight little frame, and dig my nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. "What are you doing to me darlin'?" She groans, and pushes her ass into my pulsating cock. My hips move of their own volition, grinding into her. It takes every ounce of restraint not to slam into her again, so I separate my lower half from hers, but I can't seem to tear my mouth away from her neck.

I run my hand down the length of her arm, and settle over her hand that is holding the knife. It lays dormant as I continue to place tender kisses along the back of her neck and shoulder. Her breath hitches when I reach the spot just under her ear, and the sound of it drives me a little more insane.

When my hips come forward again, looking for contact, I know it is time to move away. Bella and I will, hopefully, be taking another huge step in our relationship tonight, if she accepts my gifts, that is. I don't want to overwhelm her, or I, by putting sex in the mix and having those emotions influence her decision to accept what I have to offer her.

So, resigned, I pull away saying her name on a groan, as the loss of contact magnifies the ache in my groin. I must have made Bella lose her equilibrium because when she swivels around, she dips her arm at an awkward angle, and spills her purse, that had been sitting on the counter, all over the floor.

With a chuckle I bend to help her retrieve her belongings.

Why do women insist on carrying all of this shit in a bag? Do they really need this stuff every day?

_Like this thing._ I pick up the little pink compact. Does she really need this every single day? "What's this?" I ask, trying to prove the point to myself.

"Oh," she grabs it quickly, with a slight blush to her cheeks. "Those are just my birth control pills."

_Fuck me._

I think I said "fuck" out loud, but I am not positive. In a haze, I make my way back to my seat and throughout the course of the meal, all I think about is putting those pills to use.

It isn't until we sit down in front of the television that my mind focuses on my gifts. The suspense is going to eat me alive, so before I can back out, I blurt, "Darlin'? Um…I have something for you."

Is my voice shaking, really? _Be a fucking man. Goddamn._

Irritated with myself, I pull an envelope out of my back pocket and thrust it at her. Her eyes widen when she pulls out the concert tickets. I know she is a big fan of the Offspring, so Marcus called in a few favors and got us floor seats, in the fifth row, which in my estimation is close enough to the stage to get sweat on.

But my optimism slowly fades when I see the smile on her face falter, and tears well up in her eyes.

The concert is not for a couple of months. Maybe she doesn't think we will last that long.

I wonder if it is the lack of sex that makes her hesitant, because if it is, I'll give it to her. The realization dawns, that at this point, I will do anything to keep her.

The knowledge hits me like a ton of bricks that it doesn't matter anymore. If she wants to have a relationship based solely on good sex, then I will do it to keep her.

She starts to shove the concert tickets back in the envelope, and I debate on telling her that something else is in there, but when she looks up her eyes are still shining, and there is a difference in them now. A mischievous glint fills her chocolate orbs, and then and there I knew all my last minute worries were unfounded.

She is getting ready to do something, and I am not sure what it is. My heart speeds in anticipation, but her face turns into a slight grimace, and she looks back down at the envelope. She turns it over in her hand and the key falls out into her palm.

The key to my house. _Why not?_ She already has the key to my heart. This is just an insignificant detail compared to that.

"Jazz?" Her breathless plea for enlightenment has me squirming in my seat. I look down at my hands because suddenly and needlessly, I am embarrassed. She stares in awe at the key, and in that moment I know we are both ready for this.

"I thought you might be able to use that since sometimes you could get here before class lets out," I say shyly. I think I throw in a shrug for good measure, but I am not sure, because my head is spinning, with images of seeing Bella already in my house when I get home. I let the feeling of pure and unequivocal happiness wash over me.

I chance a look up at her. Her guarded eyes are penetrating, and her breathing is shallow. She forces nonchalance, which I find completely obvious. "You're right. It would be nice to get dinner started before you got here."

The images in my mind shift to Bella cooking when I arrive.

_My God. My house would be burned to the ground!_

Thinking that it is a pretty good idea to lighten the atmosphere I vocalize my concerns on the matter. "Ohh nooo, maybe I should take it back!"

"Very funny, smart ass."

XXXXX

This is my favorite thing about this house. The patio. But, the beautiful serenity and peacefulness elude me tonight as thoughts of Bella leaving this evening infect my mind. She looked so forlorn when she left.

I am going to have to give up on my insatiable insecurities about our future, and what it will do to me if she gives up on us. She is already my world, with or without sex. If she left me now, I would be heartbroken.

I shouldn't have let her go like I did tonight. I knew what she wanted and I should have explained better. I should have told her that I am almost ready.

_No. _I should have said fuck it, and carried her to my bed and made love to her the entire night, and fill this empty hole inside both of us.

At what point is it enough? I know I love her. I know I am in love with her. I know this is real. But does she? I'm not quite sure if the feeling is mutual, but deep in my heart I know that Bella wants more than sex.

She would have been long gone by now. I had no unrealistic dreams that I was that good…that she would suffer my company just for a romp. No, I believe she genuinely likes me. But how much?

I don't expect love yet. I don't need her to confess love for me to have her in my bed, but I have to know that she is in this for the long haul. That she sees a viable future for us. When that is apparent then I will make love to her until I could make her love me back.

And when she does, I will give her everything, I will be her everything, and then maybe she will be able to heal these wounds inside of me. The doc has sewn the gaping holes closed, but they still fester with an undisclosed amount of guilt and shame.

I know I will have to find out soon where she stands, because I can't take much more.

The Jack and Coke in my hand is all but forgotten, as images of Bella blanket my mind, and fill my cock with, the all too familiar, aching need. I swear that I will never forget the look of pure joy on her face when I gave her the key to this place. I couldn't distinguish an ounce of uncertainty on her features. She had wanted that key.

My mind shifts to the impure, and how amazingly hot Bella looked tonight, and I recognized later that she did it for my benefit. She was trying to seduce me, and goddamn, it is working like a fucking charm. My will is crumbling slowly around me. It is only a matter of time now, before I give Bella what we both need so desperately.

I open my fly, and I lower the zipper to create extra space for my bulging member. I readjust, so that my dick pops comfortably through the opening, and I can't help but let out a small "fuck yeah" on a sigh of relief. I had already disposed of my shirt, so my hand rubs over my taut belly, and my exposed chest, flicking the ring on my nip. A moan bubbles up my esophagus, and ends on a choked laugh.

I am turning into a sex-crazed maniac.

I notice that the head of my dick has made its way through the slit of my boxers and is enjoying the fresh night time air. I continue to rub down my torso, spreading my hand wide as it glides seamlessly over my heated skin, and I relish the slow building warmth growing in my chest.

I feel a cooler wind hit the tip of my cock and I know it is because now, there is moisture there. I can't go a day with Bella, and not have a leaking cock the rest of the night. My body craves her, just as much as my heart and soul does.

My hand slips down over my shaft, and I feel the wetness that had gathered over my slit. I look down as I watch my finger graze the area, spreading the bead along the entire head. My dick pulsates in its non-negotiable demand for gratification; and I quickly realize that waiting for my morning wank is no longer an option.

I put the highball down on the deck rail, and take careful pleasure in bringing the band of my boxers over my shaft. I lower my skivvies, and pants midway over my thighs, and look down at my engorged cock.

"What are you doing to me Bella?" I whisper for the second time tonight.

My hand massages the base, and the surrounding area. I shut my eyes, as my hand flows to the underside of my cock. I flatten the bottom of my palm along the base, my fingertips barely touching the rim of my head. I push my cock down, my palm runs down the length, stretching and pressing it along my leg. I let out a hiss as a little more fluid escapes, and puddles on the inside of my thigh.

I circle my fist around my shaft, pumping once, and just before I reach the tip, I twist my hand over the responsive rim. I repeat that motion, sliding my hand down and pulling it back up with a proficient flip of the wrist at the head. My head falls back on my shoulders, as the slight cool wind sifts through my hair.

My hand moves faster, the flicks of my wrist a little more erratic as the pleasure takes over all of my senses. My leg starts to quiver, but I don't want to find my pleasure too soon.

I discard my pants and underwear and make my way over to the chaise lounge. I lay back on the cushioned seat. With my knees spread wide, my feet remain on the ground, on both sides of the chair.

I look down and watch my cock bounce a couple of times, pleading for attention. Both hands descend, one grasping my dick, the other kneading the contiguous area. As I tug at my dick, my other hand treads lower, rolling my balls for a moment before massaging the sensitive area underneath.

My hips undulate, moving back and forth in erotic circles, imagining I am in Bella's white hot heat. Giving her pleasure as I seek my own. Together we will climb, and we will reach the pinnacle…together.

Always together.

I am in a world of my own. A world where only Bella and I exist, and where our pasts didn't haunt us. She loves and wants me, and I am her everything.

I want it so bad…I want her so bad.

Give it to me, _please Bella_.

My stomach jumps and bobs as my impending orgasm threatens to explode. I place my hand just over my rumbling stomach, enjoying the havoc my body is experiencing, as I find a release. I watch as my hand splays itself, roaming up over my heaving chest, down my tightened abs. A light sheen of sweat coats my torso, as my strokes become erratic and choppy.

I pinch my nipple and it almost sends me over the edge, but I detain myself from reaching the ultimate goal. I stop all movement on my cock, holding it upright, so that my other hand can spread the moisture glistening on the tip around the head of my cock, and then taking a drop of excess fluid to swirl around my sac. I pinch my sac, tightening the skin of my cock.

I groan, my back arches slightly, and my thigh muscles tighten…

and my toes curl…

and I am losing the fucking fight…

and then I hear a gasp.

_What? Please, please, please don't be Rosalie._

My eyes shoot open, and there stands Bella. "Bella!" I groan.

One hand is fisting her hair, and the other is clenched at her side. Unadulterated and undiluted lust is thick in her eyes. I grab my underwear lying next to me and cover my throbbing cock.

She watches the action, and her eyes shift emotions, and she is shaking her head minutely, her lips form a grim line, her posture rigid and unbending, but slowly, she untangles her hand, leaving a mass of tangle.

She is determined.

Every ounce of her body shows the clear set of what she is about to do. There will be no denying her.

She moves a step forward, as she grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it over with one swift movement. The energy between us pulsates in waves that cannot be ignored. "Belllaa!" I beg weakly.

Her fucking perfect breasts are on display in a pale pink bra. She bends over, giving me a better view of the soft orbs, while she peels off the jeans she is wearing, exhibiting matching pink silk panties.

I cannot say no. My dick bounces under my shorts in desperation, reminding me that I still need to finish what I started. Like I need a fucking reminder with what is being taunted in front of me at this very moment.

"Don't worry, angel. No sex, I promise."

_What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Doesn't she realize how much I want her?_

She shimmies her panties down her legs, and unclasps her bra, letting it fall down her arms onto the wood deck. She stands before me naked, shimmering in the moonlight, displaying her magnificent body for my starved eyes. She watches as I gaze upon her, staring at her perfection. My fingers itch, as wisps of her hair ghost over her rosy nipples, puckered from either the evening coolness, or from the electricity crackling between us.

"You are so beautiful my Bella." I stare, struck by an acute admiration and unrelenting pride. What it took for her to take this chance, and come to me, vulnerable and willing. My heart expands with my love for her. "My God…"

She approaches and stands over me. It would only take the lifting of my hand and I would be able to tangle my fingers in the short curls of her womanhood, but before I can do anything, she places her warm hand on my back, urging me forward. I comply and she slips in behind me, sitting up on her knees so that the place where I just longed for my fingers to be, is nestled into my spine. Her pert breasts poke against my shoulder blades, and I feel her hot breathing in my ear.

I am not prepared for her small arms to find their way underneath my arm and wrap around me. One hand is reaching for my chest and the other reaching for my cock. When she wraps her dainty fist around it, while pinching my nipple, I almost lose my load right then.

There are no words to describe the feeling of her hands on me, like this, again. It has been so long_. Too long._

"Just this, angel…just this." When she starts pumping my cock, in smooth long strokes, staying just under the swollen head, I know this won't take any time at all.

My hips have a mind of their own as they lift to meet her hand, thrust for burning thrust. I have to touch her, so I reach back and settle my hands along her supple thighs, moving them up and down at the same pace that her hand is coming down on my shaft, and in the same rhythm as her clit pressing and circling into my back.

I take, take, take, with nothing to fucking give. My position doesn't allow for any kind of a counterattack, but with her writhing against me, and her choppy breathing, I have no worries that she is finding her own fulfillment.

"Oh…God…Bella, oh fuck…that feels…Ah, God…you are wonderful." _Shit_. My intention is to whisper words of encouragement…or at least I try to, but to me, it sounds like a series of jumbled ramblings.

My head falls back, and she takes the opportunity to attack the column of my neck. I can't wait to reciprocate. I imagine Bella in my position, while I stroke her into oblivion. Those thoughts cause my stomach to jump.

"Oh Bella, fuck…I am not gonna last…" _much longer_. My vocal cords fail.

The world dissolves around me, and my baser instincts take over. I feel a sharp sting in my neck and I realize that Bella bit me. The feral action sends me into a whirlwind of ecstasy.

Hot ribbons of cum jet out of my cock, and land haphazardly on my stomach and chest, scalding the area for which it resides. Each individual stream causes my stomach to clench, and my hips to burst forth, in waves of uncondensed internal rapture, seizing my entire frame and sanity with each pass.

For several minutes, I grapple at coherency, and attempt to shake free of the tremors that still wrestle through my body.

"Bella will you stay with me tonight?" I ask quietly.

"Sure," she says tiredly, but happily.

I look up at the moonlight, and the landscape beyond, finally finding a peace I have never known in this wonderful girls arms.

As much as I love this patio and house, this is the first time it has ever felt like a home.

* * *

**So, I added some things that I didn't cover in Bella's POV, and likewise, I skipped some of the dialogue during the dinner, and afterward that was in Bella's POV, so I could fit more of the good stuff into this chapter. If you want to read what wasn't said in this chapter check out Finding Relief's chapters 25 and 26.**

**So, did Jasper's POV outdo Bella's this time? Reviews make my day, so tell me what you thought. Please.**


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